


Long Time Coming

by Slash_addict



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-08-14 13:51:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 29,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8016505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slash_addict/pseuds/Slash_addict
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke has carried a torch for Varric for years, and he was content for his poor life choices to remain comfortably secret, unfortunately Isabella didn't get that memo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1) I have always been irritated that I couldn't romance Varric
> 
> 2) I've never understood why there isn't more Hawke/Varric fic, they have such fantastic chemistry 
> 
> 3) I'm dyslexic. I don't have a beta and I don't want one, I do this for fun. If you have a problem reading works with problematic proof reading then don't read this.

Long Time Coming

“Andraste’s tits Hawke, would you _please_ get over this infatuation with Varric so the rest of us can have a turn?!”

Conversation around the table ground to a halt in the wake of Isabela’s outburst. Hawke’s eyes jerked away from watching Varric’s hands nimbly shuffle the cards for their next round of Wicked Grace to Isabela, the color draining from his face. Anders who was seated further down the table across from Aveline— who was now glaring daggers as Isabela— leaned forward to look down the table at them with a pained, if slightly hopeful expression on his face.

Hawke’s eyes flicked rapidly from Isabela to a stunned Varric and back again. He opened his mouth, closed it and then swallowed hard wondering why in the Maker’s name his normally glib wit had deserted him _now_ of all moments. His first thought was to deny it, to laugh it off and shift the focus anywhere other than on him and his poor life choices but that moment had already come and gone and now he sat, his stomach knotting painfully as he refused to meet Varric’s baffled gaze.

It was Merrill who broke the increasingly awkward silence, “But Hawke is a human and a boy, and Varric only likes Dwarves?”

That, thought Hawke sourly, pretty much summed up that. “Well,” he said briskly, slapping his hands onto his thighs and shoving himself up from his chair, his armor clanking as he got to his feet. “That’s me done for the night.” He made a quick about face, grabbed up his staff which had been leaning against the table and was down the stairs of the Hanged Man and half way across the first floor before the rest of the table erupted.

“Isabela!” Aveline demanded, “What is wrong with you?!”

“I had no idea,” Sebastian commented.

“Was that really necessary Isabela?” Fenris sighed.

“She’s not wrong,” Anders said defensively, “It’s not like there aren’t plenty of other people who—

“No one asked you mage,” Fenris snarled, “we’re all well aware of your infatuation.”

“Did I miss something again?” Merrill wanted to know.

“People,” Varric’s voice rang out above the cacophony, “Would all of you shut up and tell me what in the Maker’s name is going on?! Rivaini,” Varric said, turning toward Isabela, “is this some kind of joke you and Hawke are playing because I gotta tell you, it’s not that funny.”

“Please Varric,” Isabela retorted, rolling her eyes, “for someone who is normally so astute you have been unusually dense about this. Hawke has been pinning for you like a school boy for almost two years now, it’s enough to make a person’s teeth rot. So either step up and bend him over a barrel or put him out of his misery so he can move on and the rest of us can have a go.”

*

Hawke kicked the door shut behind him and headed purposefully for his study, if there was _ever_ a night that called for getting shit faced, _this_ was that night.

“You’re home early Messir,” Bodahn noted as Hawke stalked past, “I hope everything is ok?”

“Everything is fine Bodahn,” Hawke muttered, “I’ll be in my study, just—if anybody comes looking I’m not here, got it?”

“Of course Messir,” Bodahn replied trailing after him, a worried frown on his face, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Erase the last hour,” Hawke threw over his shoulder as he slammed the study door behind him.

A short time later found him seated in front of the fire drinking Tevinter wine that may or may not have been made from the blood and tears of Tevinter slaves, as he tried to think how he was going to spin this. He dragged a hand through his hair tiredly and took another long pull on the bottle staring morosely into the flames. Perhaps he’d make an extended trip out to the wounded coast, or—better—he could go hide among the Dalish for a while, Varric hated Sundermount. He could hide out there, slay some giant spiders, clear his head and hopefully by the time he got back this entire thing would be forgotten. He let his head drop back on the back of the chair and closed his eyes. If he was really lucky there’d be another blood mage attack, or... Void take it, _something_ this _was_ Kirkwall after all. There was _bound_ to be something unspeakably horrible happening somewhere that was more noteworthy than his idiotic infatuation as Isabela had so aptly put it.  He sighed heavily, Maker, he was a fool.  He was lifting the bottle to take another swig when he opened his eyes and yelled in surprise, nearly going over backwards in the chair. “ _Fuck_! _Varric_!” he shouted, dropping the wine bottle whose contents splashed all over the floor as he fought to keep his balance. “Don’t do that! Maker, I could have _set you on fire!"_ He shoved the chair back and stood moving away, “How did you even get in here?! I told Bodahn not to let anyone in!”

  
Varric looked insulted, “Please, Hawke, you think Rivaini is the only one who can pick the locks on your front door?”

“Ah,” Hawke muttered, “Right.” He cleared his throat self-consciously, glancing away from Varric’s penetrating stare. “Look Varric, can we just not? I know you’re not interested ok? I really don’t need you to let me down gently. As far as I’m concerned the less said the better.” He moved toward the desk and searched through the mess to try and find something to clean up the spilled wine.

“Hawke, I’m hurt, you might have at least _asked_ how I felt about it.”

Hawke stopped searching the cluttered contents of the desk and glanced over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at him, “I did ask you Varric, or do you not remember that interminably long conversation we had about the improvement of the Hanged Man through the liberal application of cute dwarven serving girls? Because _I_ do. _Vividly_. ”

“Ok, so you have me there.” Varric conceded and had the grace to look contrite.

“And that was _right after_ the long tirade about how humans make piss poor lovers because we’re sodding giants who lack proper manners.”

Varric winced, “In my defense Silvy had just picked me up and kissed me in front of everyone in the Hanged Man.”

“Look Varric,” Hawke said softly, giving up his halfhearted search and retaking the seat so that Varric didn’t have to crane his head back to look up at him. He’d never really liked that rug anyway. “It’s ok. Just, let’s not talk about it anymore, please?” Hawke was aware that he was begging, but if that was what it took to end this nightmare of a conversation then beg he would. He had known that Varric wasn’t interested, as Merrill so aptly put it, Hawke was both male and human neither of which were Varric’s preferences, but like all besotted fools some part of him had secretly hoped that Varric would return his feelings in spite of this, and it hurt more than he liked to admit to have that last, faint hope taken away.

Varric shook his head taking a step closer, he startled Hawke by sliding a hand along the side of his face, “Under normal circumstances I’d have to agree with your conclusions, but when have things ever been normal with you?”

Hawke blinked, his heart starting to race, “Are you…are you saying…what are you saying?”

“I’m saying, Sirrah Hawke, that in this, as in all things you have managed to beat the odds.” When Varric kissed him, it was nothing like Hawke had imagined. It was better. Hawke made a soft sound and then slid his hands into Varric’s hair, pulling him closer. He still wasn’t quite sure what was happening, but he was damned if he was going to let what might be a once in a lifetime opportunity go to waste. Varric’s lips were soft, his stubble caught and pulled at Hawke’s beard, and he tasted of the Hanged Man’s ale.

When they broke apart, Hawke searched Varric’s face, “You don’t have to do this,” he whispered against Varric’s mouth, “If this is pity I don’t want it.”

Varric harrumphed and knocked their foreheads together gently, “Hawke,” he said softly, “I think you know me better than that.”

“Well I thought I did, but you’ve just made me reevaluate a great many things that I thought I knew.”

Varric chuckled pulling back slightly to murmur, “I suppose that’s fair.” He dipped back in for another kiss, Hawke slid one hand down and around his back and pulled him closer, their knees bumped and Varric stepped back a bit a calculating look on his face, “The height thing is going to be a challenge.”

“Sorry,” Hawke said, feeling his heart stutter in his chest.  Suddenly for the first time in his life he wished that he hadn’t topped out at six three. If Carver could only see him now. His younger brother had always been irritated that Hawke had had those extra inches on him.

Varric waved it away, “we’ll figure it out. I’m nothing if not resourceful.”

“Here,” Hawke said, drawing Varric back toward him as he shifted forward in the chair and then spread his legs so that Varric could stand in between them. He kissed him again, still not quite daring to think that this might be something that was allowed to continue.

“I’m not made of glass Hawke,” Varric complained, “You don’t have to treat me like I’m going to break.”

Hawke flashed him a grin, “I’m not worried about breaking you Varric, but I suppose…” he swallowed, “I suppose I am slightly concerned about scaring you off. What is it exactly that we’re doing here?”

“I’m pretty sure we were kissing, has it been that long that you don’t recognize it anymore? Rivaini wasn’t kidding.”

Hawke snorted, “I’ll assume by your deflection that you don’t want to talk about it.” He leaned back in the chair his eyes shadowed, part of him argued that he ought to take what was offered and leave the future to sort itself out, the other, smarter part of him that sounded suspiciously like his mother warned him that this could hurt more than anything the  Templars could do to him.

Varric smiled, it wasn’t his usual cheeky grin, it was softer and Hawke had only seen it once or twice mainly when Varric had been reading his mail. He hadn’t seen it in a while and he certainly hadn’t ever seen it directed at him. “Are you worried that I’m going to suddenly realize that you’re human and male? Because you should know that Merrill already explained that part.” Varric said as he rested a hand on Hawke’s chest and then slid it slowly downward until he was cupping Hawke’s dick which twiched eagerly at Varric’s touch, “Definitely male,” Varric mumbled against his lips as Hawke gasped, Varric slid his hand back up Hawke’s chest and fisted his hand in Hawke’s tunic and yanked causing Hawke to stumbled to his feet. Varric didn’t move back but craned his head back, “Definitely human.” He gestured to himself, “Still here.”

Hawke laughed, it was a joyous sound that bubbled out of him without his consent, “What would I do without you?”

“Maker only knows Hawke, probably you’d be dead, or worse still living in that shack with your Uncle,” he gestured toward the stairs, “So now that we’ve established that I’m not going to flee in terror can we move this to somewhere where I won’t end up with a crick in my neck?”

Hawke chuckled as he followed Varric toward his bedroom, “Don’t think I didn’t notice that you classified living with my Uncle as a fate worse than death.”

“I don’t hear you disagreeing.” Varric pointed out. Varric watched as Hawke took a seat on the bed and for the first time that night he looked slightly uncertain. Hawke held out his hand, “we don’t have to do anything,” he assured him, “Honestly just getting to sleep in the same bed with you would probably qualify as one of the best nights of my life.”

Varric looked momentarily startled but he recovered himself quickly, nudging Hawke’s legs apart so that he could fit himself in between again, “Hawke, my friend, we need to see about raising your standards.”

“They’re already pretty high,” Hawke disagreed, he tugged gently on Varric’s belt, “Stop me if I do something you don’t like,” he said seriously, catching and holding Varric’s gaze until the dwarf nodded. Hawke undressed him in quick, efficient motions and then stood and gestured for Varric to climb onto the bed, it was too high and Hawke had to stop himself from helping, deciding at that moment that he was going to put the damn thing on the floor first thing tomorrow morning. Once Varric had gotten himself seated he dropped to his knees. Varric wasn’t hard, and Hawke prayed that that was just a sign of nerves and the newness of the situation and not indicative of something more. He took his time, using every trick he had ever learned and a few he’d picked up from listening to Isabela exchange pointers with Anders when the two didn’t know he was paying attention. Varric’s girth was impressive, apparently it was true what they said about dwarves. His tongue slid along the soft flesh almost worshipfully and he closed his eyes trying to memorize the texture and taste in case—well just in case. He breathed a silent prayer of thanks when Varric exhaled sharply and began to grow hard in his mouth, he took him deeper swirling his tongue from tip to base and then back again. He slipped one hand along Varric’s length to cup his balls and Varric hissed something in Dwarven that Hawke hopped was complimentary and grabbed fists full of Hawke’s hair.

“Hawke,” Varric warned in a strained voice, Hawke nodded to show that he’d heard and Varric came with a hiss. Hawke drank him down, noting with some surprise that dwarves tasted differently than humans. Or perhaps just this dwarf. He eased Varric back on the bed, ignoring his own hard on as he tried to gage Varric’s response. Varric smiled groggily up at him, “Maker’s breath Hawke I think you might be in the wrong line of work.”

Hawke let out a pleased laugh, “I should put in an application at the Blooming Rose you mean?”

“You’d make a fortune.”

“It’s nice to know I have options.”

Varric chuckled and somewhere between one blink and another, he fell asleep.

*

When Varric woke up the sun was streaming through the windows and two things jumped sharply into focus, one he was in Hawke’s bed and he was alone. And more importantly, number two, he’d never touched Hawke last night. He sat up with a curse, glancing around. His clothing was neatly folded on the chair by Hawke’s desk, his duster slung over the back. He dressed himself hurriedly and hastened down stairs.

“Ah, good morning Master Tethras,” Bodahn greeted him, “Messir Hawke wanted me to let you know that he was sorry but he’s been called to the Keep on urgent business.”

Varric looked skeptical, “Why didn’t he wake me?”

“I’m sure I don’t know,” Bodahn answered primly, “he was rather flustered when he left, something about the Qunari.”

Varric swore, “Thanks Bodahn, Sandal,” he nodded to the boy who flashed him a grin, and shouted “Enchantment!” after him.

Varric headed toward the keep and caught Hawke as he was heading out. “You should have woken me.” He said accusingly.

Hawke blinked, dragging his attention back to the present, “Varric!” He seemed surprised to see him and Varric winced inwardly, “I’m sorry,” Hawke began, “I didn’t—

“I’m sorry about last night.” Varric interrupted, “I’m normally a better lover than that, I swear.”

Hawke opened his mouth and then closed it, looking slightly lost. Varric felt his stomach twist uncomfortably, “Really I am.”

“I thought…” Hawke looked away, “I thought you might want to reconsider.” He said finally.

Varric nudged him with his hip, “Come one Hawke, give me another chance.” He cajoled.

Hawke looked surprised, “I—yes, if you’re sure?”

“Do you have somewhere you need to go right now, or could we head back to your place?”

“I—no,” he blew out a breath, and descended the last few steps heading back to the estate, “The Arishock wants to see me, he wouldn’t tell the Viscount why, but I’m not in any real hurry to dance attendance on a man who feels the need to collar his mages like dogs.”

“Considering the way you treat Tank I think the dogs in Ferelden are probably getting better treatment.”

Hawke barked a laugh, “True.”

“Ah welcome home Missir,” Bodahn greeted them as they entered, “there is a letter on the desk for you, strange how the messages only seem to come when you’re away.”

Hawke waved in acknowledgement, patted Tank on his head but didn’t answer, Varric knew him well enough to know he was nervous and trying not to show it. He cursed himself again for screwing things up so spectacularly last night. Once they were back in the room, Hawke began stripping out of his armor after setting his staff aside. Once he was just in his undershirt and trousers, he glanced at Varric and Varric realized he’d been staring. Hawke gave him an uncertain smile. “Bed,” Varric said decisively, “now.”

Hawke’s smile became more genuine as he sat on the bed. Varric moved once again between his spread legs but when he went to kneel Hawke caught him, and pulled him into a kiss instead. It was still unfamiliar to feel the catch of a beard against his stubble, but Hawke’s mouth was soft, and warm and he kissed with such longing that it made Varric’s heart ache—and other less poetic parts of him as well. Varric slid his hands into Hawke’s hair and Hawke sighed contentedly. After a moment, Hawke slid further back on the bed urging him to follow, he climbed awkwardly up on the too high bed, out of the corner of his eye he caught the abortive movement that Hawke made to help him, but before he could say anything Hawke was kissing him again, and that was distraction enough to drive the thought from his mind.

Hawke’s hands roamed over his body, feather light touches. He slipped off his duster and then his shirt, where he began trailing open mouth kisses down his neck and across his chest. Varric hissed in pleasure and then realized Hawke was doing it again. He pulled back slightly, “Do you not want me to touch you?” He asked, his voice a bit breathless.

Hawke looked like he’d gotten caught picking his pocket, “I,” he said roughly, his pupils were blown wide and Varric could see the hard line of his cock outlined in his trousers, “I thought this might be more familiar.” He offered. “It’s not like it’s a hardship on my part,” he said with a little grin.

“No, but I’m pretty sure it’s my turn.” Varric said, pushing Hawke down, after a moment Hawke went and Varric began his own series of opened mouth kisses down Hawke’s throat, across his collarbone and then down further, he rucked up Hawke’s shirt so that he could follow the line of coarse hair that started at his navel and disappeared beneath his trousers, Hawke was panting now, his hips moving in erratic bursts and he had his hands fisted in the bed sheets. Varric shoved the fabric of Hawke’s trousers out of the way, freeing his cock. He was longer than Varric, but not as thick. Thinking back, he was impressed that Hawke had been able to fit all of him in his mouth, it was not something that Varric would be able to accomplish—not without practice—but he knew enough, he felt, to get the job done. Hawke had screwed his eyes shut as Varric’s mouth descended and Varric felt a thrill of pride run through him as Hawke gasped, hips jerking. It didn’t take long before Hawke was tugging at him in warning, Varric pulled back and caught a few ropy strains of cum on his fingers as Hawke came. He tasted it experimentally and made a face.

“Thank you,” Hawke said, once he’d gotten his breath back, “That was...that was amazing.”  
Varric slid up next to him and pulled him into a kiss, “It was my pleasure.” Varric assured him, and to his surprise he meant it. He hadn’t been sure, at the time, how he was going to react, but he’d enjoyed it. Enjoyed watching Hawke writhe, enjoyed the noises Hawke tried not to make—and they would have to revisit Hawke’s tendency to stifle himself at a later date—enjoyed the texture and taste of Hawke’s skin. Although cum left something to be desired, an acquired taste very probably.  
Hawke smiled at him, “Will you let me return the favor?”

“I think I could manage that.” Varric replied magnanimously.  
Hawke laughed, “Kind of you,” as he traced a path down Varric’s body, licking and sucking until Varric was desperate with it. “I really am sorry about last night,” he gasped as Hawke palmed his sack, “honestly it wasn’t a reflection of my—Maker’s breathe Hawke” Hawke chuckled, evilly, and tonged Varric’s slit again causing Varric to gasp again and his hips to jerk forward despite his efforts to hold them still. Hawke didn’t seem to mind, he moved with him, and then to Varric utter astonishment swallowed him down whole. Varric hadn’t been expecting it and he shouted incoherently and came.

“Shit,” he swore, “sorry, not much of a heads up on that one.”  
Hawke slid back up and smiled down at him, “Not a problem. It was rather the reaction I was going for.”  
Varric was still trying to get his breath back, he watched as Hawke’s eyes hungrily traced the lines of his body, “wow, Rivaini was right, you do have it bad.”

Hawke’s eyes jerked back up to his and he cleared his throat nervously, “Well, I—I suppose that should be obvious by now?”  
Varric reached up and caught his face and pulled him down into a kiss, it was so disorienting to see Hawke who was normally so sure of himself, so unconcerned by the thoughts and expectations of the rest of the world this nervous. “Who would have ever thought that I of all people could make you this nervous?”  
Hawke snorted, “Please Varric you make everyone nervous.”

“I do not,” Varric retorted, scandalized. “I’m naught but a humble storyteller, what could I possibly do to make people nervous?”

Hawke grinned and rolled his eyes, “You are such a liar. You know everything about everyone in this town. You could end someone’s career or start a guild war just by writing a few letters.”

“I didn’t know this about you.” Varric said after a moment, “I cannot believe I didn’t notice, Maker I must be slipping.”

“Or spending too much time with Merrill,” Hawke suggested helpfully.  
Varric laughed, “You think it’s catching?” After a long moment, he added, “You could have told me.”

“Why?” Hawke said, turning onto his back and staring up at the canopy over his bed, “What would have been the point? I’d already tested out your preferences,” he made a face very probably remembering again the cute dwarven serving girls, “I’m not big into self-flagellation, I leave that for Anders.”

Varric heaved himself up on one arm and leaned over Hawke, sliding his free hand along Hawke’s face until Hawke met his eyes, “You’re my best friend Hawke, I hate that you’ve been hurting and I didn’t notice. It’s my job to pay attention to these things.”

Hawke smiled and placed his hand over Varric’s, “It is not actually your job to take care of all of us, you self-appointed mother hen.” Hawke chuckled, “And it’s not like you could have done anything. So why make things awkward.”

“Except for how I have actually done something.” Varric pointed out triumphantly, his eyes raking down Hawke’s rumpled form. Hawke had kicked off his breeches at some point but he was still in his crumpled shirt which hung down low enough to cover most of him, Varric sat up and tugged until Hawke helped him take the shirt off. Varric ran a hand down along his chest, and cupped his stirring cock.  
Hawke’s eyes fluttered shut, “You’re really good at this.” He said, a note of surprise lacing his words.

“I do have one of my own,” Varric pointed out.  
Hawke cracked his eyes open to glare at him, “I have nipples, doesn’t mean I’d know what to do with a woman if one ended up naked in my bed.”

Varric blinked, “Wait, you’ve never been with a woman? Maker’s breath Hawke you could have at least told me about your preferences, I’m going to have to rework have a dozen different stories now.”

“Serves you right,” Hawke sniffed, eyes sparklingly. His breath hitched as Varric fingers continued to explore, “besides, it was always interesting to listen to stories about myself as I manfully swept no end of ladies off their feet.”

“It didn’t bother you?” Varric asked as he tugged slightly trying to illicit the same reaction he’d gotten a moment ago, it worked and he felt his own balls draw up just a bit at the sight.

“Varric, something like seventy five to ninety five percent of what you tell people about me isn’t true, why would this bother me?”

Varric considered it and then shrugged, “I don’t know, it just seems like it should. So no women huh? Never?”

“Is that so inconceivable? Have you ever been with a man before last night?”  
Varric took his hand away causing Hawke to frown, Varric rubbed at his chin, “No,” he conceded.

Hawke watched him for a long moment, Varric watched as different emotions flited behind Hawke’s eyes, finally he decided to put both of them out of his misery, “Just ask Hawke, it might turn out better than you think.” He punctuated the statement by sliding a hand down Hawke’s chest.

Hawke sighed, signaling defeat, “So, why now? Are we…what is this?”

“Why Sirrah Hawke are you asking me about my intentions? As a gentleman and a scholar I’m insulted that there is even a question.”

“Weren’t you having an affair with a married woman?” Hawke asked, eyes narrowing. “How gentlemanly is that?”  
Varric blinked, “How did you—

Hawke shrugged, “She came to see you once while you were out of town on business. I had stopped by your suite in the Hanged Man to leave you that Orlesian camo to see if you could try and fence it—Varric held up a finger and Hawke rolled his eyes—“ right, yes so you could ‘check with your contacts’ and she was there.”

Varric fidgeted, Bianca had never told him about this, and Hawke hadn’t seen fit to mention it previously either. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what had happened, “And…?” He said finally.

“She said, ‘so you’re the asshole who keeps getting Varric into fights,’ and I agreed and asked if there was anything I could help her with and she said, ‘well you could stop getting him into fights,’ and I said that that was unlikely and I asked who she was that she was so invested in keeping you out of fights and she introduced herself as Bianca and I said, “oh like the crossbow,” and she said “No, like his lover.” And then I might have said something along the lines of how he’d never mentioned you and she—“ he coughed, catching the expression on Varric’s face, “Uh, we might have gotten into a bit of a pissing match over you at that point.”

Varric groaned covering his face with his hand, “This was last year wasn’t it?”

“Uh…” Hawke squinted, thinking, “Yeah, about midwinter, why?”

“Because Bianca’s been a bit testy in her letters since then.”

Hawke went still, “Are you still seeing her?”

“Bianca and I don’t really see each other Hawke, we write letters back and forth, I haven’t seen her in the flesh since before her wedding, the one that she actually showed up for.”

“Do you still love her?” Hawke asked at last.

“Of course I do,” Varric said easily, but Hawke’s look said that he didn’t miss the undertone of hurt that he hadn’t quite been able to cover, “But that’s irrelevant. Bianca belongs to a family so conservative they don’t take a piss unless they check with the ancestors first. They arranged a marriage for her with a nice smith cast boy, and that was the end of that.”

“Except how you kept not seeing each other after the fact.”

“Except for that,” Varric agreed, “Look Hawke, things with Bianca and me have always been…complicated.”

Hawke sighed, rolling to his feet and started pulling on clothes. “So this was what? A distraction?”  
Varric opened his mouth to reply but Hawke cut him off, “Varric, don’t. Just, don’t. I’m sorry about Bianca, I wish things had worked out for you two, but I can’t live like that. Just,” he made a slashing motion with his hand, “let’s call this off before one of us gets hurt or we screw up our friendship.”

Varric got to his feet, “Don’t I get a say in this?” He asked indignantly.

“Fuck Varric you just told me you were still in love with her! What in the Void am I supposed to do with that?”

“What I’m not allowed to love someone?” Varric demanded heatedly.

“I want you to love me!” Hawke shouted and then sagged back against the wall burying his face in his hands, “I wanted you to love me.” He said again, softly. “Because I love you. And I can’t do this. I just can’t.” He straightened up and fled.

Varric watched him go, cursing himself for six different types of a fool.

*

On his way out the door Hawke had managed to snag his staff and his boots but not his armor and he felt naked as he walked the streets of High Town in nothing but his breeches and his undershirt. He stopped by one of the armor stalls grabbed up a decent set of armor and threw coin at the merchant strapping on the plate as he head out of high town and out of the city. His initial plan has been right on the money, he should have gone straight to Sundermount, that way he would never have needed to know what it felt like to have Varric’s hands on him while his heart was elsewhere. He was an idiot who would never, ever learn.

When the air started to change as he moved further away from the city he finally stopped and sat down on a rock and stared out into the distance. Maker but he was a fool. One day, perhaps, he would learn to look before he leaped.

When he finally reached the Dalish camp he was tired and hungry and angrier than he remembered being for a long time. He was angry at himself and at Varric and Bianca and at the mountain and the rock that had found its way into his boot. The Keeper took one look at him and then ushered him into her aravel, “What troubles you so Da’len?” She asked, taking a seat opposite him, Hawke tried to think up a plausible excuse but couldn’t get past the seething anger in his chest. The Keeper watched him for a moment longer and then said, “Come, sit by the fire, we are about to take supper.”

Hawke sat and ate content to listen to the Dalish talk and the clan story teller spin tale after tale. And if those stories were peppered with a disproportionate number of accounts of how humans had harmed the Dalish coupled with intermittent challenging stares, Hawke paid no mind for the Elf’s voice sounded nothing like Varric’s and the darkening gloom at the foot of the mountain in no way resembled the warm glow of the Hanged Man.

He slept that night under the stars, and breathed deeply of the thick night air. He would have to go back tomorrow, he had to deal with the Arishock and his mother would worry. But for the moment, he allowed himself the luxury of wallowing in self-pity, tomorrow he would go back to being the Sion of the Amell family, warrior mage who laughed in the face of Templars and Qunari alike, but tonight he was just a man alone with his heartbreak.

*

“Varric,” Isabela said, coming into his room without knocking, “Have you seen Hawke? I stopped by his place last night and his mother said he’d been gone all day.”

Varric looked up from where he’d been working his way through a stack of bills, receipts and letters and pinched the bridge of his nose, “No Rivaini, I don’t know where he is.”

Isabela’s eyes narrowed, “That’s funny, because Leandra said that you’d spent the night the night before, and a good part of the day. Seems odd that you wouldn’t have some idea of where he might be.”

“What do you want from me Rivaini?” Varric asked angrily, “Do you want me to admit that I screwed up? That I’ve driven off Hawke to Maker knows where?”

“No I want to know why. Is this about the other night?”

Varric felt his anger flag, there was no point getting mad at Isabela it just rolled right off her back. “Yes Rivaini, this is about the other night. I decided to take your advice, but it didn’t go quite as well as I would have liked.”

“What did you do?” Isabela demanded, “Maker’s balls Varric, leave it to you and Hawke to fuck this one up. He’s crazy about you, and you about him and yet it’s still managed to go tits up. And I thought Aveline was shite at this.”

“Rivaini I hate to be the one to break it to you, but I barely know how I feel about Hawke, and I probably should have taken a moment to figure that out before charging in there and making a mess of things.”

“You poor sweet thing,” Isabela sighed taking a seat across from him, “Varric, this doesn’t have to be that complicated, you fuck, you have fun, you go on.”  
Varric shook his head, seriously water of a duck’s back. “Rivaini not everyone is as cavalier about sex as you are.”

“Well they should be.” Isabela retorted matter-of-factly. She eyed him for a moment, “So…what? Hawke told you he was madly in love with you and you weren’t sure how to answer?”

“You know the Chantry takes a dim view of mind reading.” Varric growled.

“Maker, he didn’t!” Isabela breathed, her eyes widening. “Oh fuck.”

“That about sums it up, yeah.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Varric burst out, frustrated, he shoved at a pile of papers on his desk and then ran a hand over his face.

“Well you better figure something out quick because if you broke Hawke then Aveline is going to break you.”  
Varric stilled, “Oh shit.” He hissed thinking about Aveline’s reaction.

“Exactly.”

* 

“Morning Hawke,” Aveline greeted him as he strode into her office, “What can I do for you?”

“Have you got a moment Aveline? The Viscount has asked me to go to the Arishock and I thought it might be wise to bring back up, I plan to pick up Fenris along the way.”

“Sure Hawke, not much going on right now.” She said following him out, she watched him for a moment, noticing the shadows under his eyes, “Are you ok?”

“Hmmm?” He glanced round at her and smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Of course, when am I ever not ok? How’s Donnic?” He asked trying to change the subject, but Aveline wouldn’t let it go.

“Look Hawke I just wanted to say that what Isabela did the other night was not ok—

Hawke stopped so sharply that Aveline almost ran into him, “Aveline,” he said turning, his eyes hard “If you are my friend then you will never mention that night or any repercussion thereof to me ever again.”

His anger took her by surprise and she sensed that there was more to it than she knew but she nodded, “Fair enough.”

He relaxed and some of the shadows left his eyes, “Now, let’s see if Fenris is home. Always good to have someone along that speaks Arishock.”

After the meeting they lingered outside the Quanri compound, “We should probably check in with Varric,” Fenris offered, “he might know where this Javaris Tintop can be located.”

Aveline noticed Hawke stiffen at the mention of the name but he nodded, “That’s a good idea.” They walked slowly toward the Hanged Man, Aveline watching Hawke more closely now. Fenris picked up on her scrutiny and raised an eyebrow in her direction but she shook her head.

Hawke was either oblivious or pretending to be. When they reached the Hanged Man Isabela was at her usual place by the bar, “Ooo, Hawke!” She cooed, “Varric and I were just talking about you.”

“Oh good,” Aveline heard him mutter, he raised his voice and asked, “Is he upstairs?”

“He was last I saw of him,” Isabela agreed, “What’s up?”

“Actually,” Hawke said, “You might know,” He leaned against the bar, hooking his thumbs in his belt, “you remember Javaris Tintop? That dwarf that we worked for a few years back?”

“The one that had us killing Tal-vashoth? Yeah, what about him?”

“The Arishock thinks he tried to steal from them and we’re trying to track him down, any idea where he might be?”

“Who would be stupid enough to steal from the Arishock?” Isabela asked deadpan.

“There’s a sucker born every minute,” Hawke said darkly, “so?”

“What? Oh, no idea, Varric might or you could ask the Coterie.”

Hawke nodded and then glanced toward the stairs, he had the look of man bracing himself for something unpleasant. As he started that way, Isabela opened her mouth to say something but Aveline trod heavily on her foot and she let out a squawk of pain. Hawke glanced round but Aveline shooed him on, Fenris following after. Hawke gave them both a look, “there better not be any blood on the floor when I get back,” he warned and then, muttering something under his breath, he and Fenris headed up the stairs.

“Aright Isabela, what’s going on.”

“Don’t look at me,” Isabela said yanking her arm out of Aveline’s grasp, “I didn’t do anything.”

“You started all of this.” Aveline disagreed, “What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that it was about time that Hawke got over himself and moved on.”

“That’s not for you to decide!”

“Look, as Hawke once said himself, friends push. How was I to know that things were going to go tits up?”

“That’s why you should keep out of it.” Aveline growled.

“Oh, shut it, it worked out just fine for you and guardsman questionable standards.”

“Shut up whore.”

*

Hawke shoved down on the twisting in his gut as he reached the top of the landing, Fenris on his heels. It helped that he was worried about what he would find when he got back down stairs. One never knew with those two. When he entered Varric’s suit, Varric jumped up from where he’d been seated at his desk working through a pile of paperwork.

“Hawke!” He said, but Hawke cut him off before he could say anything else.

“We’re looking for Javaris Tintop, do you know where we might be able to find him?”

Varric, looking thrown off balance, glanced from Hawke to Fenris and back again, “Tintop? I haven’t kept up with the squirt, why? What’s this about?”

Hawke explained about the Arishock and the theft. Varric shook his head, “Doesn’t sound right,” he disagreed, “Javaris never stuck me as the master mind type.”

“Well Maker knows even you get things wrong every now and again,” Hawke said acidly, unable to resist the dig but the wince it elicited only made him feel worse so he said, “Any idea where we might find him?”

“Check with the Coterie, they should know.”  
Hawke nodded, “that’s what Isabela suggested as well, thanks Varric.”

“Hawke, wait!” Varric said taking a step toward him but Hawke was already turning away and heading down the stairs. Fenris glanced between Varric and Hawke’s retreating back and then followed silently after.

*

Varric, however, was not to be that easily deterred. That night he headed up to High Town with his second best set of lockpicks in tow, but when he went to kneel by the door it opened and he nearly fell forward onto his face, only saving himself from that spectacle by grabbing gracelessly at the door jamb.

“Good evening Bodahn,” Varric greeted the other dwarf as if he wasn’t kneeling at his feet, his grip on the door the only thing keeping him upright, “is Hawke in?”

“Master Hawke has asked not to be disturb,” Bodahn said disapprovingly, “I’ll tell him you called, yes?”

“Oh come on Bodahn, you know Hawke didn’t mean me.” He wheedled trying to edge past.  
Bodahn eyes hardened, “Actually Messer, I believe that he meant _specifically_  you.” And with that he shut the door in Varric’s face. Varric then heard what sounded suspiciously like a bar being lowered across the door. “Well shit.” Varric said, dusting himself off. This was going to be a bit harder than he’d thought.

Things didn’t improve much over the rest of the week, Hawke didn’t show for that week’s game of Wicked Grace, and the rest of the group kept shooting him looks ranging from knowingly sympathetic—from Merrill of all people Isabela must have filled her in—to confused—Anders—to downright hostile—No surprise there, Aveline.

After he’d lost for the third time he conceded that his heart wasn’t in it and called it a night and headed up stairs. He sat staring at the candle flickering on his desk and tried to think what in the Void he was going to do. He had never meant to hurt Hawke. He’d been right about what he’d said to Isabela, he really should have put more thought into it than, ‘hey, let’s see where this goes, might be fun.’ It wasn’t like Hawke hadn’t tried to ask him about it either—repeatedly. He sighed, he was starting to think his thing with Bianca might have skewed his perspective a bit on how these things were supposed to work.  
After a long moment he pulled a blank piece of parchment toward him, dipped his quill in the ink and started to write.

*

“Message for your Messer,” Bodahn said, placing the letter on the table next to where Hawke was finishing his breakfast. Hawke wiped his hands on a napkin and picked up the envelope, but froze when he caught sight of the handwriting, it was Varric’s. Sighing he tore open the letter, wanting to get it over with.

 

 

>  
> 
> Dear Hawke,  
>  I’m sorry.  
>  Varric

 

Hawke blinked. Well… that hadn’t been quite what he’d been expecting. He thought for a moment, then got up and went into his study, grabbed a quill, and then turned the page over scribbled a response, signed it and then resealed it, handing it back to Bodahn, “Will you see to it that this gets delivered to Varric’s suite at the Hanged Man?  
The dwarf eyed him strangely but nodded and headed back out.

*

Varric was just returning from a meeting with the merchant’s guild, always fun that, when he caught sight of the letter and his heart sank. Maker, was Hawke so mad that—he stopped when he realized that it had been opened and then closed again. He pulled it out glanced over it frowning and then flipped it over and read:

Varric,  
You’re forgiven. Now can we please just pretend this whole thing didn’t happen?  
G.H.

*

“I can’t.” Varric said, as Hawke came out of his estate later that night. Hawke spun, his hand reaching automatically for his staff until he saw Varric detach himself from the shadows.

“Seriously Varric you have got to stop doing that.” Hawke growled.  
Varric flashed him a grin, “Habit, sorry. But I mean it. I can’t.”

“You can’t what?” Hawke asked confused.

“Just put it all behind us.” Hawke frowned and Varric hurried on, “Because I don’t want to. I, look Hawke, I may not have really thought things through before I showed up that night, but…” he swallowed, “I, I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen.”  
Hawke regarded him for a long moment, then sighed, “You are going to be the death of me.” He muttered, gesturing back toward his estate, “Come on.”

The headed back inside, Bodahn watching a bit apprehensively, Hawke flashed him a reassuring smile. He lead the way into the study, sat down and indicated the other chair, “So,” he said finally, getting back up and grabbing a bottle of wine he glanced at Varric who nodded, Varric had a feeling this conversation might go better with a bit of lubrication.

“So,” Hawke said again, retaking his seat and filling two glasses he’d scrounged from somewhere, “what do you want?”

Varric considered this for a long moment, “Well for one, for you to teach me how to suck cock.”

Hawke spit out the sip of wine he’d just taken and Varric grinned, Hawke rolled his eyes at him as he mopped at the stain on his shirt, “Thanks for that.”

“Any time.” Varric assured him, “Look,” Varric said, his tone turning serious, “I-- I’m not sure how I feel, but I’d like the chance to try? Is that…could we try that?”

Hawke regarded him for a long moment, his face unreadable. “What about Bianca?”

Varric had known this was coming, “I can’t just turn off how I feel Hawke,” he said quietly, “I don’t think that should disqualify me from trying to find someone else.”

Hawke frowned, “I don’t expect you to stop caring for her, I just—“he stopped, he opened his mouth, stopped again seemed to think better of what he was going to say and then started again, “...are you sleeping with her?”

“I haven’t seen her in a year and half Hawke,” Varric said dryly.

“So you just…write letters?” Hawke said sounding skeptical.

“We meet up occasionally,” Varric replied, “But like I said, not recently.”

Hawke regarded him for a long moment, “I’m assuming that “meet up” translates to ‘we fuck like rabbits.’ That would be the part I’d object to if we do this.” Hawke gestured between the two of them.

“Yeah, I got that.” Varric agreed. He’d thought about it, but the prospect didn’t upset him the way he’d thought it would. Not like he’d felt clutching that brief response from Hawke and facing down the prospect of never getting to see that look on Hawke’s face when Varric touched him. He got to his feet and crossed to Hawke cupping his face in his hands. Hawke looked uncertain, want and fear warring behind his eyes. Varric kissed him gently, “I,” he whispered against Hawke’s mouth, “Have not been able to think about anything but that night with you. You are my best friend and the most important person in the world to me. If I never get to make you beg then I will be the poorer for it.”

Hawke gasped and Varric kissed him again, rougher this time he felt Hawke’s arms tighten around him and he grinned knowing that he’d won, “Is that a yes then?” He asked when they broke apart.

Hawke leaned his forehead against Varric’s, and sighed. Finally he said, “Exclusive.”

“Yes.”

“Beg?”

Varric laughed, “You stifle yourself in bed. We have to work on that.”

The side of Hawke’s mouth quirked up in a small smile, “we can certainly try.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Me too.”

*

Initially Varric had been worried that their working relationship would change because of the change in the nature of their relationship. But they ran around Kirkwall all day, righting wrongs and returning miscellania, and then at night he would learn the shape and taste of Hawke's body. Nothing changed in the way Hawke treated him. And at first he was relieved. Hawke returned to the Hanged Man for Wicked Grace, joked with him, snarked at Isabela, exchanged vague pleasantries with Sebastian and gamly explained the ever more inventive tavern graffiti to Merill. They fought blood mages, and mad Elves and gangs of interchangeable street thugs, traipsed through giant spider infested caves, got sand in his boots on the wounded cost as they hunted Tal-Vashoth and Elf Root, and nothing changed.

Nothing.

And It was starting to get on Varric’s nerves.

In bed Hawke was...solicitous and attentive. He enthusiastically coached Varrick through sucking cock until Varrick felt himself a master of the craft. But when Varrick woke each morning Hawke was always gone, either down in the study or out for a run. And all of it lacked the passion of the first night. There was a guardedness to Hawke's behavior that hadn’t been there before. And Hawke had never again tried to ask him where this was going or what it was. And it was that, more than anything else that made him realize that Hawke was just waiting for Varrick to leave. And he knew that he was going to have to be the one to say something because this time Hawke wasn’t going to.

A few days latter he was on his way to Anders’s clinic to get him to look at the spider bite he’d picked up in one of the afore mention giant spider slaying romps, he was still trying to figure out how to broach the subject with Hawke, which he knew was really just nerves on his part, when he checked his stride at the door to the clinic at the sound of Anders’s voice.

“You can talk to me you know,” Anders said, his voice gentle. “I do have some familiarity with being in love with someone who doesn’t return the feeling.”

“And that’s why it wouldn’t be fair to you.” Hawke disagreed, “Talking to you about Varric would just be cruel.”

Varric edged himself into the shadows at the entrance to the clinic positioning himself so that he could see without being seen.  
Anders shook his head, “You need to talk to someone Hawke, this is eating you up inside.”

Hawke’s shoulders were bowed, his posture radiating defeat, so different from his normal bearing that Varric was taken aback.

“It still wouldn't be fair to you.”

“I’m a big boy Hawke,” Anders said, seating himself next to where Hawke sat on a crate, “I can take care of myself.” Hawke gave him a skeptical look, “What?” Anders rolled his eyes, “Ok, so I’ve made some poor life choices, this isn’t one of them.”

“Don’t do me any favors Anders,” Hawke said darkly, “I’ve had about all I can take of friends doing favors for me.”

Anders made a sympathetic noise, “You really think he’s just humoring you?”

Hawke lifted one shoulder in a shrug, “I don’t know.” He answered tiredly, “I...I think he cares, I know he considers me his best friend and he even said that I was the most important person in the world to him…” Hawke trailed off, his eyes unfocused.

“But,” Anders prompted

“I don’t think he loves me. He’s never even called me by my name,” Hawke whispered, “Even when we’re in bed together I’m still just _Hawke_.” There was so much raw pain in Hawke’s voice that Varrick took an automatic step toward him without even thinking. And then it hit him that he was the cause of the pain and he wanted to howl.

Anders pulled him into a hug and Varric felt a wave of jealousy hit him that nearly left him breathless.

“Have you tried talking to him?” He asked gently

Hawke laughed, but there was no mirth in it, “He just deflects, you know Varric.” Anders nodded “I know,” Hawke went on his voice breaking, “I know I should end it. Every night I try and then he touches me and...and I get to pretend for just a little while that…”Hawke trailed off a tear sliding down his face and catching in his beard, “And in the morning I can’t stand myself,” he shook his head, pulling away from Anders , “I’ve never thought of myself as a coward, but in this...so I retreat to my study and lose myself in research or go for a run,” he smiled mirthlessly, “I’m probably in the best shape of my life.”

“You are _not_ a coward!” Anders replied, clearly indignant on Hawke’s behalf, “You are allowed to want the man you _love_ to love you back.”

Hawke sighed and wiped a hand across his eyes, “Maybe. But if wishes were horses then beggars would ride as my father loved to say. I should get going,” Hawke said abruptly, clearly finished with the conversation. “Thanks for listening Anders.”

Anders watched him go a worried expression on his face, “Hawke,” he said, following after, “I really am happy to listen, if nothing else I am your friend.”

Hawke smiled at him, “Thanks Anders, I wish…” He trailed off and Varric felt a stab of panic laced jealousy knife through his chest.

It was Ander’s turn to smile, “Me to, obviously, but we can’t help whom we love.”

“Maker help me, isn’t that the truth.”

And then Hawke was gone, passing within a foot of Varric as he left, his face smoothing out into his normal pleasant countenance just as if he wasn’t being made utterly miserable by his ass of a lover. Varric felt nauseated.

Anders stared after Hawke’s retreating form and sighed and then turned and went into his back room where he kept his supplies. Varric knew he should leave, but he felt rooted to the spot, his head spinning. His heart ached knowing that he had caused Hawke… caused Garrett so much pain and hadn’t even realized it. What kind of a lover--or even a friend--did that make him that it had taken him this long to even realize something might be wrong and only to realize the depth of his failure by dent of an overheard conversation. He leaned his head against the crate and breathe heavily through his nose fighting down the sudden lump in his throat. He heard again the raw pain in Garrett’s voice.

 _I don’t think he loves me. He’s never even called me by my name, even when we’re in bed together I’m still just_ Hawke  
But...he _did_ love him Varric realized. Oh Maker, Varric thought dazedly, I do love him. The strength of which he was only now coming to appreciate. He swallowed, the only other time he had let himself fall in love it had ended so, so badly.  He rested his forehead on the crate and tried to think.  He could ignore it, let Hawke think he was right, but even just thinking that made Varric recoil inwardl.  he would have to try he decided, he took long breath and squared his shoulders, he could do this, he just prayed that it was’t too late.

*

“You can do this” Hawke told himself as he approached the Hanged Man, “just tell him you want to be friends. He’ll probably be relieved,” Hawke swallowed down the misery, and squared his shoulders but still hesitated at the threshold to Varric’s door, that small treacherous voice in the back of his mind that had defeated him every night before said once again that one more night couldn’t hurt. One more night where he got to touch and hold and pretend that his feelings were returned. Varric would end it soon enough, why did he always have to be the self sacrificing one? He was still fighting with himself when his feet took him into Varric’s suite on autopilot.

“Hawke!” Varric said loudly, jerking him out of his internal conflict, “Your early!”

Hawke blinked, Varric had sounded nervous, “Are you ok?” He asked.

Varric ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that Hawke had only seen him make a handful of times and then it hit him that, oh Varric was breaking up with. Hawke sank tirely into a seat, and tried to remind himself that this was for the best.

“It's ok Varric,” Hawke said softly, “I understand.”

“No it's bloody well not ok,” Varric said vehemently and then he was in front of Hawke, kissing him with a passion that made Hawke gasp. “I love you,” Varrick whispered fiercely against his lips, “I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you.” Hawke felt dumbstruck, and must have looked as uncertain as he felt because Varric growled, “ I love you, I’m not doing this out of obligation, or pity, or as a favor, I’m here and in your bed because I want you. Please give me another chance Garrett.”

Hawke gasped, a shiver running through him. He crushed Varrick to him, passion he’d tried to keep banked flaring up and taking over as he moaning quietly into the dwarf’s mouth, he stood up and forgetting himself picked up Varric and took a step toward the bed until his brain caught up with what he’d done and then sat back down like a string had been cut, releasing Varric as if burned. “I’m sorry,” he said urgently, “I didn’t mean--I forgot--” Hawke had been there the time one of the burly serving women had made the mistake of picking up Varric to give him a kiss. Hawke had never seen him so mad. It was that night that he had confided to Hawke one of the reasons he didn’t want to take humans as lovers was the height problem which humans seemed to believe could be solved simply by picking him up, which was not, under any circumstances, ok.  
Varric looked stunned and Hawke felt his heart sink, “I won’t do it again, I swear” he pleaded, “I wasn’t--

Varric kissed him so tenderly it shut him up completely. “Garrett,” he said softly, sliding one hand along his face, “I do not care if you pick me up.”

“But” Hawke started, “You said--

“You’re different.” Varric explained gently, “I love you. I didn’t know…” He licked his lips nervously, “ I’m just sorry that it's taken me this long to get my head out of my ass. But to give you a too much delayed answer to your perfectly reasonable questions, what this is,” he gestured between the two of them, “Is a partnerships that I hope will last for…” he swallowed again, “well as long as we can manage, and given our propensity for stumbling blindly into some seriously fucked up shit, the Maker only knows how long that will be, but if I’m very, very lucky the rest of our lives. And as for what I want, I want you to believe me that I love you, I want you to be happy, and I want you to take me to bed and make love to me like the first night we were together when I hadn’t yet betrayed your trust--and if you want to carry me to the bed so I can kiss you on the way I’d want that too.”

Hawke looked floored. He reached out and slid a hand along Varric’s cheek and Varric sighed and leaned into the touch, putting his hand over Hawke’s. “How...what brought this…” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully, “you overheard me talking to Ander’s didn’t you.” He started to pull away but Varric held on.

“Yes, I did, but I’d already started to pick up that something was wrong, that just helped to clarify things.”  
Hawke looked conflicted, “Is this...you can’t just... decide to be in love with someone Varric.”

“I didn’t decide Hawke, Garrett” Varric corrected when Hawke flinched.

“You don’t have to--

“ _Andraste’s flaming knickers_ ,” Varric growled and kissed him, “I love you Garrett Alexander Hawke The Maker only knows why,” he knocked his head gently against Hawke’s. “But I can’t read your mind, if there’s something you want me to do you have to tell me.”

Hawke nodded, “I know,” he sighed, “I suppose a part of me just wanted you to come up with it on your own. Names are such a big thing with you.”

“Well, in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m pretty bad at this, so that’s probably not going to happen. Can you live with that?”

Hawke’s mouth quirked up, “I can, yeah. I’m--or at least in the past, I wasn’t, so...irrational when it came to my lovers.

Although you’d never know it to look at me now.” He shook his head, “You make me crazy.”

Varric grinned at him, “Likewise. And to be fair, you did try to talk about things at first. I just wasn’t there yet.”

“What changed?” Hawke asked leaning back in the chair. His mouth dropped open when Varric climbed up into his lap.

Varric grinned like a shark and took full advantage of Hawke’s gaping mouth, once he got his breath back he replied, “Nothing changed.” He chuckled, “nothing changed, you were treating me the exact same way as always and it was driving me crazy.”

Hawke blinked, “I didn’t think you’d want me to treat you any differently, not with, well, not with other people around surely?”

“I didn’t think so at first, and then you kept flirting with Rivaini and I wanted to stab her in the eye and write my name on your ass, so I guess yeah, I do want you to treat me differently.”

Hawke burst out laughing, “You were jealous?” he asked, delighted.

“Blondie’s lucky he didn’t lose a limb when he hugged you today.”

Hawke gave him a wondering look, “Really?”

Varric nodded, “really. It caught me by surprise too.”

“I...well I didn’t think you wanted anyone to know.”

“Why?” Varric asked, “I mean, yeah, I figured that out after the first couple of weeks, but it's not like I ever said anything. I’m not ashamed of you Garrett.”

Hawked glanced away, color suffusing his cheeks, “Wow,” Varric said softly, “I really fucked this up didn’t I. You thought I was ashamed of you?”

Hawke shrugged, “I wasn’t sure this was the kind of thing you wanted getting out. I know that dwarves don’t generally approve of same-sex relationships. And, well, you’ve never been a fan of humans as romantic partners. And I didn’t know if...” He trailed off.

“You didn’t know if,” Varric prompted,

Hawke sighed, “I didn’t know if you’d told Bianca and I didn’t want anything to get back to her incase you hadn’t.”

Varric was silent for a long moment, “I don’t deserve you.” He muttered finally. “Please promise me something.” he begged softly. Hawke nodded, knowing he’d do it, even if he ought not, “Please stop hurting yourself because you think it’ll make me happy.” He ran his hands through Hawke’s hair and cupped his face, “Please?”

Hawke sighed and kissed him, “I’ll try. I...I’m not very good at this either you know. And I don’t...well, I don’t get to keep the things I love.”

Varric’s heart broke. “You get to keep me, I swear” he answered roughly. “Please take me to bed now.”  
Hawke nodded, and waited for Varric to get off his lap, when he didn’t but instead jutted his chin at challenging angle that Hawke knew all too well, Hawke slid his arms around him and lifted him as he stood. Varric kissed him, “I love you,” he promised, “I am not going to run away.”

They made it to the bed, Maker only knew how. Once Hawke had Varric on his back he started on his shirt, Varric was already pulling Hawke’s shirt of his head. “What do you want?” Varric asked, “what do you want that we haven’t tried?”  
Hawke froze which Varric knew for the tell it was, “Garrett,” He said warningly, “Do not lie to me. We just had that lovely heart to heart.”

Hawk blew out a breath of laughter, “What we do is fine--” Varric narrowed his eyes at him, “It is,” Hawke said grinning, “I’m just happy to--

“I want you to remove the word ‘just’ from your vocabulary--

“Might make conversations difficult,”

“Shut up, no one asked you, what do you want that we haven’t tried. Not ‘do you like what we’ve been doing,’”  
Hawke swallowed, “You could…” He trailed off unable to finish. Unable to risk what he had.

“Garrett,” Varric whispered, “Ask me.”

Hawke closed his eyes, “You could fuck me?”

Varric considered this, “I haven’t got a clue how.” He conceded “but I’m willing to give it a go.”

“You really don’t have to.” Hawke assured him, trying to fight down the jolt of arousal that went through him so he could think straight, “what we’ve been--

“I believe I told you to shut up.” Varric said cheerfully, “show me how.”

“Oh Maker,” Hawke whispered his head dropping down on the pillow next to Varric’s in defeat, “...if you’re sure.”  
Hawke leaned over the bed where he’d dropped his belt and pulled off a small bottle, he tipped the contents onto his fingers and then rocked back so that he could get his fingers into himself. Varric watched in horrified fascination, “shit, doesn't that hurt?”

Hawke bit down on a groan, “Really no,” he assured him. He finally flopped over on the bed next to Varric to get a better angle, and added another finger. “Ok,” he said after another moment, “get on top of me,” he helped Varric climb on top of him, he glanced at the dwarf, “If you don’t like this please don’t do it, I won’t be offended I swear.” He helped get Varric lined up, “ok” he said softly, “push.”

Varric pushed. There was resistance at first and then once the head of his cock was past the tight ring of muscle he move more easily. Even so the tight, wet heat was like nothing he’d ever experienced. His balls drew up and he had to grab himself and hold still for a moment to keep from cumming right then. Hawke threw back his head, a sob escaping him. “Oh Maker,” he whispered, “oh, please, please don’t stop.” Varric’s hips jerked forward without any input from his brain and Hawke cried out.  
After a moment they found their rhythm, they’d always been good at anticipating each other in the field, apparently that extended to the bedroom as well. Varric caught himself chanting “Garrett, oh fuck, Garrett,” over and over again, so it took him a moment to realize that Garrett was repeating “Thank you, oh Maker Varric, thank you.”

“I need to kiss you,” Varric said desperately, he couldn’t reach Hawke from where he was but Hawke surged forward bending nearly double and impaling himself even further on Varric’s dick as he lunged up to kiss him. He came with a shout, the taste of Hawke on his lips his hand on Hawke’s cock, it only took a couple pulls and Hawke was cumming too. Afterwards they lay tangled together in the afterglow, sticky and sweaty and so, so sated. Varrick had his face buried in the crook of Hawke’s neck and Hawke’s face was buried in Varrick’s hair.

Finally Varrick turned his head enough to look at the candle burning on the table. “We need to get up, the other’s will be here any minute for Wicked Grace.”  
Hawke’ make a noise that sounded suspiciously like a whimper, and Varric smiled into his neck and kissed a path up to his mouth, stroking a hand along Hawke’s chest. “If we don’t go down Rivaini will just come up, and I find that I’m sick of sharing.” Hawke’s eyes opened and he glanced at him questioningly. Varric hesitated for a moment, finally he said haltingly

“The only other person I’ve ever loved was Bianca... and I had to share her with that nug humper of a husband of hers. I’m,” he hesitated and then soldiered on, “I’m rather looking forward to having you all to myself. I mean I’m assuming the exclusivity rule from our first round of negotiations is still in effect.”  
Hawke chuckled softly, “Very much so.”

“Well then if I don’t want Rivaini coming in here and ogling my man, we’re gonna have to make ourselves presentable.”  
Hawke stretched languidly and sighed. “Fine,” he rumbled, “But I want to lodge a complaint, that wasn’t nearly enough time to enjoy the afterglow.

Varric grinned, “So noted. We’ll plan ahead next time. ” Varric slid off and stood. He glanced back at Hawke and stopped. Hawke opened his eyes and caught him staring, he felt a twinge of unease, “Varric?”

“You’re just very nice to look at.” Varric reassured him, leaning down to kiss him, “I was enjoying the view.”  
Hawke actually blushed, “I should get cleaned up,” he muttered and got up and headed to the privy.

*

They both managed to get cleaned up and headed down the stairs before anyone came looking for them. Varric, now that he was looking for it, watched as Hawke pulled on the mask, could almost see him mentally putting distance between them.

“Garrett,” he said softly taking his hand, Hawke’s head jerked around to look at him, surprise plain on his face, “Not ashamed.”

Hawke swallowed, “ So you want...what? To tell everyone?”

Varic spotted Isabela coming across the floor to meet them, he moved a couple steps up so that he was on level with Hawke and then kissed him, he heard Isabela come to a stop and then a moment later jeer a cat call at them.  
Hawke broke away wide eyed. “I think they’ll figure it out.” Varric said cheerfully, trailing a stunned Hawke down the stairs and toward their table in his wake.

“Well it's about damn time.” Isabela remarked as they took a seat, “Hawke when you finally get it out of your system, just know that there’s more fish in the sea.”

“And that some of them are sharks,” Fenris commented taking his seat.

Isabela batted her eyelashes at him, “Why Fenris you say the sweetest things.”  
Varric felt another wave of possessive jealousy and wondered if this was going to be a thing. He’d never been very jealous of Bianca. But then he hadn’t really had the luxury. “Garrett is taken Rivani.” Varrick growled.

“And he doesn’t even like women.” Hawke added. Varrick could tell that he was pleased at the use of his given name. He flashed Hawke a grin who smiled back.

“Details,” Isabela waved it away, “Meaningless details.” Varric and Hawke exchanged a glance.

“Riviani you are incorrigible, you know that?” Varric asked as he shuffled, Hawke got up to fetch the first round of drinks and Aveline and Sebastian came in.

“Ooo, breaking out the big words.” Isabela cooed, “Is somebody feeling threatened?”

“Who feels threatened? Sebastian asked as he took his usual seat.

“Varric’s worried I’m going to steal is man.”

“He’s really not” Varric corrected.

Avaline raise her eyebrows in surprise, “I didn’t know you had a man Varric.”

“Varric and Hawke have finally kissed and made up.” Isabela explained, “They were fawning all over each other earlier it was quite disgusting really. You should have been here you could have arrested them for public lewdness.”  
And so the evening went. Varric began to realize that the rest of the group hadn’t even been aware that they’d been seeing each other for the last three months. They seemed to think it had just started that night. And perhaps, Varric thought as he watched Hawke laugh and joke with Avaline and entirely fail to flirt with Isabela, they had.

After the rest of the crowd had headed to their beds, or in Isabela’s case someone else’s bed, Varric glanced a Hawke and asked, “Your place or mine?”

“Well,” Hawke said, only slurring his words slightly, “you’re place is closer. But mine comes with hot running water.”

Varric considered this, “Only if you’ll be there when I wake up.” That might, he realized upon reflection, have come out a bit more sullen than he’d intended.

“Sorry. ” Hawke ducked his head, “You never said anything. I didn’t think--

Varric leaned over and kissed him, “I mind.”

Hawke looked pleased, “I’ll be there when you wake up.” He promised.

“Then if we can manage the walk, I vote for your place. Your bed is better anyway.”

“I keep forgetting to put it on the floor.” Hawke groused as they headed toward High Town.

Varric rolled his eyes, “The step stool is fine Garrett. I’ve been a dwarf living among humans all my life. Incorrectly sized furniture is not new.”

Hawke looked like he wanted to object and then subsided. They walked along in companionable silence, pretending not to see the Dog Lord thugs who were shadowing them.

“I think they’re getting worse.” Hawke said conversationally as they rounded the corner, reaching up and bringing his staff down in one one sharp motion that sent electricity crackling across the plaza which echoed thereafter with the sounds of multiple screams.

“Could be.” Varric agreed as a put an arrow through the Dog Lord that had been trying, badly, to flank them.  
They both waited, ready to see if there would be any more thugs, but when the streets stayed clear, they continued on their way.

“You’re sure I can’t put anything in the manner that would make it more comfortable for you?” Hawke asked as they took the last set of stairs up toward home.

“Nah, Bodahn’s already made the place about as dwarf friendly as possible.”  
Hawke nodded. Bodahn and Sandal had already retired for the night, so they locked up after themselves and headed up to the master bedroom where Hawke started stripping down. Varric watched him. He’d been aware that Garrett was an attractive man, you didn’t need to spend much time following Hawke before you noticed a tendency of the women (and men) that he met to throw themselves at him. But it was as if he was seeing things that he hadn’t seen before.

“Varric?” Hawke asked, and Varrick realized he’d been staring. His eyes flicked up to Garrett’s face, he was grinning.

“Sorry.”

Hawke’s grin got wider, “You’re allowed to look.” He reassured him, “You just look…I don’t think I’ve ever seen a look quite like that, if I had to give it a name i’d call it puzzled lust.”

“Fairly accurate.” A thought occurred to Varric, “Hawke--sorry, Garrett--

“Varric, I don’t mind if you call me Hawke--” Varric gave him a look, and Hawke had the grace to look embarrassed, “It was less the name and more the sentiment,” he explained, “and you’ve been calling me Hawke for two years now, I understand that it might be hard to call me something else.”

Varric nodded thoughtfully,“But you would prefer that I call you Garrett.”  
Hawke hesitated and Varic glared at him, he sighed. “Yes.”

“Then I will.” Varric said firmly as he shrugged out of the last of his clothes and climbed into bed, pulling Hawke down with him.

“What were you going to ask me?” Hawke prompted, arching into Varric’s touch as he stroked down Hawke’s nicely muscled chest.

“Have you had any lovers since you came to Kirkwall?”  
Hawke blinked, “Where did that come from?”

“I was just thinking about women’s tendencies to throw themselves at you and I realized I can’t remember you ever taking a lover.”

“I don’t like women Varric,” Hawke explained patiently.

“Don’t give me that, there were plenty of men throwing themselves at you too.”  
Hawke shrugged uncomfortably, “taking lovers is difficult for a mage and I’ve never enjoyed one night stands. Too much of a romantic Caver always liked to say.”

“Junior is an ass.” Varric said automatically.

“He is,” Hawke agreed, “But not wrong. Why?”

“It was just a thought, and then I was suddenly worried that you’d been celibate for two years because of me.” Varric caught the looked on Hawke's face, “Damnnit Hawke!”

“Not just you!” Hawke said hurriedly. “It really is hard for me to trust people.”  
Varric pulled him down into a kiss, “You’re incorrigible too, you and Rivaini should start a club.” Varric muttered against his lips.

“Mmm,” Hawke said as Varric’s hand moved lower and started to stroke. “So,” Hawke sighed arching up into the touch again, “What do _you_ want?”

Varric’s hand stilled for a moment and then continued the lazy stroking, “Getting to fuck you was pretty spectacular.” Varric conceded after a moment. 

Hawke laughed, it was a warm, full belly laugh that made Varric smile. “Anything else?”

“This is going to shock you Garrett but I don’t actually have a lot of experience with sex,”

“What, a paragon of manliness like yourself?” Hawke asked, grinning.

“Sad but true. Bianca and I were together but not for years. The time that we had together before everything went to the Void was fairly brief all things considered and as much as I hate to admit it, dwarfs are fairly old fashioned in our sexual exploits.”

“No,” Hawke gasped in mock astonishment, “Dwarves? Old fashioned?”

Varric punched him in the arm, “Bianca and I considered ourselves pretty adventurous at the time.” He added after a moment. “But co-writing Swords and Shields with Isabela has taught me the error of my ways.”

“I still cannot believe you two actually wrote that drivel.”

“You read it.” Varric pointed out.

“Of course I did, the dwarf that I’m in love with wrote porn, like I wasn’t going to read it. Although the mental gymnastics of trying to see someone other than Avaline and Donnic got to be too much for me in the end.”

“Yeah,” Varric agreed, feeling absurdly pleased at Hawke’s comment about loving him, “that might have been a tactical error on our part.”

“Little bit.”

“Worth it though. So, to return to your earlier question, I don’t really have any deep, burning fantasies, but like always Sirrah Hawke I am willing to follow where you lead.”

Hawke shifted over him, lining up their cocks and dumping oil from a bottle he’d fished out of the side drawer. Varric’s eyes slid shut as Hawke began to stroke. “Yeah,” Hawke rumbled, his strong strokes stopping just this side of painful just the way Varric liked them. They had done this before, and each time it got a little bit better. Varric assumed it would plateau eventually but clearly not tonight. “I’ve been meaning to talk to all of you about that. I think it's someone else’s turn to lead.”

Varric’s voice hitched slightly, “Good luck with that.”

“It's not that bad,” Hawke wheedled, “Sometimes you get to save the city from barking mad Elves and degranged chantry sisters.

“Pass.”

“Maker,” Hawke hissed as he picked up speed, “you feel good.”  
Varric’s hand found Hawke’s other hand in the darkness and squeezed. Hawke’s eyes slid shut and he groaned softly. Varric had picked up pretty early that Hawke had a thing for his hands. He ran the other one over all the bared skin he could reach.

“Love you.” he said softly. Hawke’s breath hitched and he came. Varic took over, another few pulls and he was cuming as well. Slowly Hawke slumped down next to him and Varric pulled him close. “Thank you,” whispered, “For giving me another chance.”

“Thank you for wanting one.” Hawke whispered back.

*

The next morning Hawke awoke, felt the warmth of the body next to him and cursed himself for a coward until a split second later the rest of the night slammed back. He lay reeling for a moment as the events unrolled behind his mind’s eye. His stomach tightened painfully as he remember Varric saying he loved him not once but repeatedly, and he breathed out trying to get his equilibrium back.

Hawke believed him. But he didn’t know if that was because it was true, or just because Hawke so wanted it to be true. But last night had been...something had changed. And it had been so good. And fool that he was he was willing to hope, because it was so much better than the alternative.

Finally, he rolled over to look at the dwarf in question. Varric was still deeply asleep, he was not, Hawke had learned early on, a morning person. Hawke smiled fondly, watching him, his eyes tracing the familiar lines of his face relaxed now in sleep. Hawke had always found Varric attractive, even before he’d fallen head over heels. Getting to see what was under all that leather had only improved his opinion. And of course there was the added bonus of getting to run his fingers through all that glorious chest hair.

After a while he decided he was going to have to get up, not, for once, because he wanted to escape his poor decisions, but because he really needed to take a piss. Hopefully Varric would sleep until he got back. But as he was rolling quietly out of bed he heard a muttered, “where do you think your going?”

Hawke grinned, rolled back over and kissed the dwarf on the temple, “To take a piss. I’ll be right back.” he promised.

Varric cracked one eye suspiciously but seemed mollified when Hawke just headed toward the bathroom door.

When he got back Varric was waiting, “How can you be coherent this early?” he grumbled, his voice rusty with sleep, as pulled Hawke back down with him.

Hawke laughed, “I’ve always been a morning person.” He rolled back over grabbed one of Varric arms and tugged until Varric was spooned up behind him.

“You know,” Varric said around a yawn, “Not that i’m complaining mind you, but I never thought I’d be the big spoon in this relationship.”

“Mmm,”Hawke sighed contentedly, “well I’m glad you're not complaining.”

“So you really do prefer being on the bottom?” Varric asked, it was a conversation they’d never really had. Hawke could hear the surprise edging his words.

He rolled back over so he could face Varric, “I do,” he said seriously, “Is that a problem?”

“No,” Varric reassured him, “It just seems, I mean you're usually the one calling the shots. Seems uncharacteristic is all.”

Hawke raised an eyebrow at him, “You assume because I like to be on bottom I'm not the one calling the shots?”

Varric looked suddenly cautious, “there’s a trap here, I can already tell.”

Hawke laughed again, and then pushed himself up onto his knees and moved so that he was over Varric, he sat back slightly grabbing up the jar of oil that they ‘d used last night and dumped a good amount on his hand and on Varric who yelped at the sudden splash of cold. Hawke grinned evilly and began stroking Varric’s cock which was waking and stretching eagerly at the attention.

“I did mention that I wasn’t complaining, right?” Varric asked dazedly as Hawke’s strokes picked up speed.

“You did.” Hawke agreed, “But just because I like to take it, and Varric,” he caught Varric's eyes as he leaned back and slid two finger into himself, “I do like to take it,” he groaned quietly and then went on, “that certainly doesn’t mean I’m not calling the shots.”

Varric whimpered, “Maker’s breath Hawke.”

“Mmm,” Hawke hummed in agreement, his voice slightly breathless as he added another finger, his other hand still stroking

Varric’s length. Varric’s hands had found their way to his thighs and were rubbing up and down just shy of his cock and Hawke arched into the touch hungrily. Finally he judged himself ready and he moved over Varric, waited until Varric’s eyes were locked on his and then slowly lowered himself onto Varric’s cock.

Varric swore loudly, his hips trying to buck but Hawke held them in the place with an iron grip. Once Hawke was fully seated, Varic gasping under him like a dragon about to flame, he gave himself a moment to adjust and then started to move. Rock solid thighs pistoning him up and down relentlessly as he fucked himself on the thick length of Varric’s cock.  
“Oh Maker,” Varric chanted over and over as Hawke rode him expertly, his hands digging into Hawks waist hard enough to leave bruises. Hawke ran his hands up the length of Varric’s chest, fingers scratching through his chest hair which had turned out to be surprisingly soft. Hawke closed his eyes reveling in the feel of being filled, of being stretched, of being taken and doing the taking. His smiled took on a predatory edge when he opened his eyes and caught Varric staring up at him hungrily. Hawke leaned down kissed him. The angle was a bit awkward but not overly so, and so worth the effort to have the taste of Varric lips on his when Hawke came. He clinched tightly around Varric’s cock, who came with a shout. Hawke rode out the aftershocks, waiting until Varric had softened a bit before raising himself up and off, and then letting himself collapse happily next to Varric, his face mashed into the pillow his ass slightly up in the air.

He was about to make a comment when to his surprise Varric slid a hand along his back and over his ass dipping one finger inside him. He felt the muscles in his ass spasm and he groaned loudly his dick twitching in a valiant if ultimately futile effort to get hard again. “Oh Maker,” he hissed his hips pushing back against Varric’ finger which had been joined by a second. “Oh shit, _Varric_!”

“I’m glad you like taking it Garrett,” Varric whispered in his ear, “Because I rather like doing the taking.” Hawke whimpered, screwing his eyes shut as Varric kept stroking his ass with one hand and fucking him with his fingers with the other. “And while you are clearly perfectly capable of calling the shots,” Varric’s beautiful baritone went on in Hawke’s ear, “I think here,” he punctuated the word by dragging his fingers across Hawke’s prostate making him gasp, “You don’t always want to, do you?”

For a moment Hawke couldn't find his voice as sensation swamped him, but when Varric stated to pull his hands away Hawke gasped out, “No.”

Hawke realized dazely that he was hard again, so too, apparently was Varric because he was suddenly behind Hawke sliding in, his way eased by his own cum and Hawke groaned into the pillow at the thought.

“Louder Garrett,” Varric admonished, “We’ve had this talk.”

“My mother is in the next room.” Hawke hissed as Varric pounded into him, “Oh maker yes.”

“Your mother is a smart lady, Garrett, she already knows what we’re doing in here. Stop making excuses.” he slapped Hawke on the ass, Hawke gasped and came so hard that it almost hurt.

He returned to himself a moment later with cum dripping out of his ass, Varic pressed up against his side and blood still rushing in his ears. He rolled over and eyed Varric who was looking smug.

“You've been holding out on me,” Varric said accusingly.

Hawke laughed and stretched, wincing a little, “well, yes.” He said, “I kept waiting for you to leave.”

“No, not that, I asked you if there was anything else you wanted to try.”

Hawke looked at him blankly and then understanding dawned, “Oh”, he dropped his face, which felt suspiciously warm, down into the pillow. “Please don’t put that in a story, I’ll never heard the end of it from Isabela.”

“Garrett,” Varric said sharp enough to make Hawke pick his head up and look at him, “none of this is going in a book.” Hawke sighed in relief and Varric pulled him close spooning up behind him, he hooked his chin over Hawks shoulder. “You like what you like, nothing wrong with that. You could have told me.”

“I’ve never actually told anybody.” Hawke muttered after a moment, “I had a few lovers figure it out.”

“Well, like I said I’m not very good at this so you’re going to need to give me the particulars.”

“I love your hands.” Hawke said after a moment spent trying to marshal his thoughts, “What you did just then, kind of the perfect storm.”

Varric huffed an exasperated sigh, “Garrett, do you or do you not want me to spank you?” He asked bluntly and Hawke felt himself flinch at the word he’d never said out loud--that he’d never really even let himself think. He buried his face, which was on fire, in his hands, and yet at the same time arousal shot through him at the thought. “Hey, it's ok,” Varric soothed,

“Garrett,” he urged softly, tightening his arms around him, “It really is.”

“Can we not talk about this now?” Hawke begged.

Varric kissed the back of his neck. “Sure.”

Hawke relaxed and then gave a relieved chuckle when Varric stomach growled loudly enough to be heard in the other room. “Breakfast?” Hawke asked, grinning.

“I think that might be a good idea. “ Varric agreed, “But, we should probably get cleaned up first.”

*

Once they had availed themselves of Hawke’s hot water supply, one of the best selling points of the manor as far as Varric was concerned, they headed down to breakfast and found Bodhan already setting the table. As they took their seats Leandra came in, a flicker of surprise crossing her face at the sight of Varric--this was the first time he’d stayed for breakfast. Normally, after he'd woken yet again to an empty bed he’d let himself out and headed back to the Hanged Man.

“Master Tethras,” Leandra greeted him her tone slightly chilly.

“Varric please, Lady Leandra.” Varric reply with his most charming smile.

Unfortunately it didn’t seem to have the desired effect. Leandra’s frosty demeanor didn’t alter, if anything it dropped a few more degrees as she inclined her head in acknowledgement and took a seat at the table. After a few moments of eating in a suddenly awkward silence Leandra said, “I take it by your presence that you have finally decided to do right by my son?”  
Hawke choked on the bite of food he’d just taken. “Mother!” He managed to gasp out between hacking coughs.

“No Garrett,” Varric interrupted, as he poured Hawke a glass of water, Hawke gave him a grateful look as he gulped it down.

“It's a fair question.” He met Leandra’s eyes squarely, “I never meant to hurt Garrett, Lady Leandra. ”  
Leandra regarded him for a moment while Hawke fidgeted, looking poised to flee, after a moment she nodded, “I’m pleased to hear you say so.” She gave Hawke a small smile, “I suppose this means that I needn't find you a wife after all.” Hawke rolled his eyes, “it wouldn’t have been my first choice,” She went on, “I suppose I’ll have to rely on Carver for grandchildren,” she said wistfully, “although I suppose you can always adopt. So do you plan to have a ceremony or just draw up the documents?”

“Mother,” Hawke sighed, “I am in no way fit to raise a--wait, what?”  
Varric nodded in agreement, “Just the documents I think. I can draw them up today and have them approved by my solicitor by the end of the week.”

“I’ll want to see them first.” Leandra insisted.

“Of course,” Varric agreed, inclining his head.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Hawke asked in bewildered outrage.

Leandra raised an eyebrow at him, “Are you saying you don’t want to marry him?”

“I--no,” Hawke stammered, “But I’m pretty sure that he’s supposed to ask me--”

“Nonsense darling,”Leandra disagreed, “families have been arranging marriages for their children for centuries.”

Varric took pity on Hawke who was looking more and more besieged, “Garrett, would you like to get married?”

“Yes?” Hawke said, and then shook his head as if trying to clear it, “Do you?”

“Of course I do, I wouldn’t have agreed to draw up the papers otherwise.”

Hawke looked nonplussed at that. Finally he said, giving Varric a searching look, “If...if you’re sure. ”

“Excellent.” Lendra said, her voice rich with approval. I’ll expect the marriage documents on the morrow. “Now I should be going, I promised Gamlin I’d be by around midday.”

Hawke watched his mother go. “What just happened?” he asked finally.

Varric laughed, “I believe Sirrah Hawke, that we just got betrothed.”

“That’s what I thought.” He said weakly. He glanced at Varric uncertainty, “are you sure--

Varric leaned over and kissed him, nipping at Hawke’s lip until his mouth opened and he was able to deepen the kiss. He slid his hands into Hawke's hair as Hawke’s arms came around him. When he felt like he’d made his point, he pulled back and then kissed him more gently. He met Hawke’s searching gaze, “Do you love me?”

“More than is probably wise.” Hawke said quietly.

“Good.” Varric said, breathing through the sudden rush of warmth and possessiveness that came with Hawke’s assertion.

“Because I love you too. Do you want to sleep with anyone else?”

“No!”

“Good.” Varric replied, not bothering to keep how pleased he felt by the answer out of his voice, “Neither do I. Beyond that it's just money, and I already manage your finances and you’re already my next of kin.”

“What about--wait, I’m your next of kin? Since when?”

Varric rolled his eyes, “Last winter? When you signed the documents acknowledging you were my next of kin? I explained all of this to you already you know.”

Hawke’s eyes narrowed in thought. Finally he ask, his tone accusatory, “Was I drunk at the time?”

“Possibly.” Varric hedged, “Now is there anything specific you’d like in the marriage contract?”

Hawke ignored him, “You got me drunk and made me your next of kin?”

Varric sighed, “You would have said no otherwise.”

“Of course I would have!” Hawke said indignantly, “Don’t I inherit your seat in the dwarven merchant’s guild then? I don’t need another reason for people to want to kill me.”

“The merchant's guild isn't that bad.”

Hawke gave him a speaking look, “Varric, the only thing you complain about more than the Dwarven Merchant’s guild is hiking up Sunder Mount. You invented a cousin so that you wouldn’t have to attend meetings. Wait, shouldn’t the cousin inherent then?”

“Ah, that took some doing, but no. He’s an officiant, but not in line to inherent. Makes people less prone to want to kill him.”

“Hah,” Hawke said, pointing a finger at him accusingly, Varric winced.

“Ok,” he held up his hands placatingly, “so it just means that you’ll have a vested interest in keeping me alive.”

“Varric,” Hawke said, his tone long suffering, “I’m in love with you I already have a vested interest in keeping you alive.”

“Well there you go then. Problem solved. So anything particular for the marriage contract?”

Hawke threw up his hands in defeat. “Fine. I don’t want the seat, I’m human, they’ll have me assassinated on principle. Also, monogamy.”

Varric’s mouth quirked up in a smile, “Anything else?”

Hawke opened his mouth, closed it and actually seemed to think about it for a moment and then shrugged, “Not that I can think of, I’m sure mother will have some additions.” He added sourly. “You two are going to get to fight that one out on your own by the way, I’m going to be unavailable.”

Varric laughed, “I had no doubts.”

“For the record, I had no idea that she was going to do that.”

Varric shrugged, “It’s alright, I’ve never managed to get along with my lover’s families.”

“Bianca?” Hawke asked after a moment.

He nodded, “Her family has sent no less than five different assassins after me.”

Hawke gaped at him, “why?” He managed after a moment.

“I’m not supposed to come within three hundred leagues of Bianca. We nearly started a guild war before she finally agreed to leave me and marry that Nug humper of a husband.” Varric said tiredly

Hawke stared at him in horrified silence finally he said, “I’m so sorry.”

“I was too, less so now.” He added smiling at Hawke who smiled back.

Once they finished breakfast Varric headed back down to the Hanged Man to get changed, he really ought to start keeping a change of clothes at Garrett's place, and headed to a meeting with his publisher that he’d been putting off for weeks now. It was hard to stay focused, however, his mind kept drifting back to the events of the last few hours and he’d find himself grinning stupidly. By the time he’d finished with his publisher he realized he’d agreed to an earlier deadline and and an additional hundred pages and to his dismay, he found that he couldn’t even really work up a good head of steam over it, he was too focused on getting back to Garrett. He stopped by the Hanged Man, packed a bag with several changes of clothing and then headed back up to estate. Bodhan let him in and instructed him that Garrett was in the study. He snuck in quietly and just stood watching him for a while. Garrett was lit by the light of the fire in the hearth, his whiskey colored eyes glinting in the light as he turned a page. Varric felt his gut clench at the prospect of getting to have this all to himself. Forever. Or until he managed to screw it up.

Finally Garrett felt the eyes on him and pulled himself from his reading. “How long have you been there?” He asked his mouth quirking up in a smile.

“I just got here.” Varric lied easily and grinned as Garrett's smile grew.

“Liar.”

“Possibly. So, can I tear you away from your work?”

“Possibly,” Garrett replied, eyes sparkling, “What did you have in mind?”

“well I'd explain but you have issues about your household knowing about our sex life, so I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”  
Hawke laughed, “I think i can manage that.” he shut the book in his lap and stood, heading for his bedroom.  
Once the bedroom door was firmly shut behind him Varric asked, “So do you want me to spank you?”

“Varric!” Hawke hissed, spinning around. Varric could see arousal and embarrassment warring for space on his face.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Varric soothed, he’d given this a lot of thought and he’d decided that for now this would probably be the best approach. They would need to talk about it eventually but right now he wanted to show Garrett that he was willing and that it was nothing to be ashamed of, “Just give me a yes or no.”  
Hawke looked torn, he swallowed hard, “You don’t have to do this.” he rasped after an agonized moment.

“I know that.” Varric assured him, “I want to. Do you want to?”

Hawke closed his eyes, “Yes.” He said so quietly that Varric almost missed it.

“Good.” Varric said approvingly, he started stripping out his clothes. After a moment Hawke began to do likewise. Varric really wished he could talk to him about this because he was more or less making this up as he went along and he didn’t want to get it wrong-- thank the Maker for Rivani and her unending desire to share sordid details of her own life. Despite his desire to talk things out, however, It was painfully obvious that if Varric asked Garrett to talk about this, neither the conversation nor in all probability the sex itself was going to happen.

Varric clambered up onto the bed and then looked toward where Garrett was hovering uncertainly by the door. “Come on Handsome,” Varric indicated the bed and that Hawke ought to join him with a jerk of his head, once Garrett had finally gotten onto the bed as well, Varric asked, “Do you want to lie on the bed or do you want me to put you over my knee.”

Garrett’s face flushed deeply he groaned and dropped his face into his hands. Varric was up and across the bed cupping his face in his hands, before he could call the whole thing off. He kissed him softly, “there is nothing to be ashamed of Garrett,”

“I shouldn't want this.” Hawke mumbled, his voice pained, “ and you thought wanting to be on bottom was uncharacteristic.”  
Varric kissed him again and mentally cursed himself for having said such a thing, “Garrett, there is nothing wrong with this. Nothing. Even so, unless you want it to this does not leave this room, this is between you and me and the rest of the world can go hang. I want to make you feel good, I don’t think any less of you for wanting--”  
“Please don’t say it.” Hawke begged, glancing up “Yes, i want, yes--” he dropped his eyes back down and swallowed, “Your knee.”

Varric nodded, He’d guessed as much from Garrett’s reaction. Despite his obvious mortification Garrett was already hard, a bead of precum glistening at the tip of his cock. Varric helped him get settled with his face hidden in his crossed arms, his ass pushed up and his leaking cock pressing against Varric thigh. “How many?” Varric asked

“Ten.” Came the muffled reply after a moment.  
Varric nodded and brought his hand down sharply on Garrett’s raised ass. Garrett swore into his arms his whole body jerking.

“Harder, softer or was that good?” Varric asked.

Garret just nodded, so Varric assume that that meant he was good. He brought his hand down again and Garrett actually cried out and then froze, “Maker,” he hissed “my Mother is going to hear us.”

 “She's still at Gamelin’s I checked when I got here. And I sent Bodahan and Sandal on an errand.”

Hawke glanced back over his shoulder his embarrassment momentarily forgotten, “Did you really?”

Varric smiled warmly at him, rubbing his hand gently over the reddening hand prints on Garrett’s ass. “I did, but in the future

I think we’re going to need to come up with something a bit more permanent.”

Hawke marveled at him for a moment more and then turned back and put his head back into the nest of his folded arms. “I’ll think of something.” He agreed.

Varric was pleased the Garrett seemed to be relaxing a little. He decided to to chance asking, “So what number was that?”

“Two.” Garrett said after a moment

“And you wanted?”

Varric felt him shiver, “Ten.”

Varric brought his hand down again and Garrett moaned loudly, not bothering to try and muffle himself beyond the automatic sound dampening effects having his face pressed into his arms offered. Varric made sure to wait a little between each strike stroking the reddening skin. He could tell that Garrett was close, his dick jerked with each strike and on the tenth Garrett came with a shout and a full body shudder. He lay panting wetly, and Varric revised his estimate of just how much Garrett wanted this to something more along the lines of need. He’d been with Garrett for months now and he’d never seen him quite like this. Varric tried to shift unobtrusively, his own hard on starting to complain, while he rubbed gentle circles on the small of garrett’s back. After a moment Garrett sighed, “Ooooh Maker. Thank you.”

“Now Garrett, we’re engaged to be married I think you can call me Varric.” Varric could feel Garrett roll his eyes. Garrett shifted slightly his leg bumping up against Varric’s aching cock, he pulled himself slowly off of Varric lap and then turned and pulled Varric down with him, his hand sliding down Varric’s chest and along the underside of his cock. Varric’s breath hitched, “Where’s that oil?” Garrett laughed and indicated the drawer in the stand by the bed, “Is there a special trick to this?” Varric asked as he poured some oil over his fingers.

“Not really,” Hawke answered, spreading his legs invitingly, “Just use a lot.”

“It's not going to hurt after,” Varric gestured toward Garrett’s ass.

“What?” He said drowsily, Varric wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Garrett so relaxed, “Oh, no. No I,” he cleared his throat, a bit of the embarrassment returning, “i like getting fucked after.”

“So,” Varric asked as he slid two fingers into Garrett “how often do you like to get spanked.”

Garrett arched into his touch but glared at him at the use of the word, although it lacked heat. Varric ignored it, he hoped that he’d be able, bit by bit to get Garrett more comfortable with himself in this. Using the word was a step in that direction.

“There’s nothing wrong with the word or the deed Garrett.” Garrett opened his mouth very clearly to object but Varric cut him off, “How often?”

Garrett sighed in defeat bending one knee to give Varric easier access as he added a third finger. “This doesn’t always need to be about what I want you know.”

Varric rolled his eyes, “Yes, thank you Garrett I am aware of that, but you’re not the only one who enjoyed it.” And surprisingly that was the truth, Varric had enjoyed it. Less the act itself--although it hadn’t been nearly as uncomfortable as he’d feared it might be-- than the way it seemed to utterly destroy Garrett. Leaving him looking relaxed and sated in a way that Varric had never seen before. It was like someone unwound all that pent up power that crackled under his skin that he normally kept so tightly leashed. Varric found himself already looking forward to the next time. “You’re avoiding the question.”  
Garrett was watching his face and Varric lined them up and slid in, Garrett was so relaxed that there was nearly no resistance and Varric was able to start thrusting enthusiastically almost immediately. His eyes slid closed without his noticing and he swore loudly. He was still getting use to this, it was so different from what they done previously, the warm tight, wet heat of him, the primal feeling of control as Garrett just lay back and let Varric pound into him. He heard Garrett’s breath hitch as he picked up his pace, nearing the edge of his control. Garrett was starting to push back against him, some of the languidness dissipating. When he opened his eyes again Garrett was still watching him.

“I dislike being humored.” he warned finally, when Varric opened his mouth to argue Garrett interrupted, “Yes i’m starting to get the idea that you’re not.”

“Damn right,” Varric growled and then he was spilling into Garrett’s ass, his own cum adding to the slick slide. Finally he pulled out dropping down next to him panting hard. “How. Often.”

Garrett blew out a long breath, “weakly, in a perfect world. Since we’re both pretty busy I doubt--”

Varric silenced him with a kiss, he’d felt a small shivery thrill run through him at the idea of getting to do this on a such a regular basis. “We'll see what we can manage.” he said once they’d broken apart.  
Garrett eyed him for a moment, “You’re excited about this.” he said finally, his tone a mixture of surprise, skepticism, and wonder.

“Yep.” Varric agreed and Garrett barked a laugh. “I’m still going to ask you before hand. We’re supposed to talk about this,” Garrett gave him a look, “We are,” Varric defended, “Rivani explained it to me once” at Garrett’s panicked look Varric explained hurriedly, “nothing to do with us this was months back. She was explaining about one of her former crewmen it's called kink negotiation. We put it in Swords and Shields remember? And I don’t want any more miscommunications if we can help it. Which we probably can’t because we both seem to be pretty bad at this, but we should at least try.”

Garrett threw his arm over his eyes and groaned, “Fine, fine. Just don’t expect me to very chatty.”

After a moment Varric asked quietly, “So do you think less of me because I enjoy this?”

“What,” Garrett said sharply, half sitting up his arm falling away from his face. “no of course not--” he stopped and rolled his eyes in the face of Varric smug expression, “It's different. You’re not a grown man who wants to be put over someone’s knee and spanked,” his voice cracked on the last word. “It's ridiculous,” he flopped back down on the bed and covered his flaming face with both hands. “And if anyone ever found out I think I’d have to turn myself into the templars--

“Stop.” Varric order sharply, the very idea of Garrett at the hands of the templars left him cold. “No one is going to find out.

“Do you still think I would--

“Not you,” Garrett shook his head, “Not,” he sighed, “I don't know, people talk and I make a lot of noise. And the,” he gestured, “the act itself is hardly quiet.”

“well,” Varric said, slightly mollified, “Isn’t there a spell you can use?”

Garrett thought about it, “Not that i know of.” He said after a while, “I suppose I could write one.”

“There you go, problem solved.” Varric’s hand found Garrett’s, “Now come on we should get dressed, Bodahn will be back from his errand by now.”

Varric was right, when they got to the bottom of the stairs, the parlour was lit by the glow of candlelight and the warmth of the fire. A table had been set for two, covered dishes at each place setting revealed a meal that had obvious caused someone a great deal of effort. Garrett blinked in the low light turning a questioning look on Varric who smiled in return. Varric gestured for Garrett to take a seat and tried to calm his racing heart. Being nervous was absolutely ridiculous he told himself firmly. Garrett had already said yes for Andraste’s sake. “So,” Varric said, coughing to clear his throat, “I thought we might try something a bit less business like.” He pulled a ring out of his pocket. “Would you do me the honor of spending the rest of your life with me?”

Garrett’s smile almost hurt to see, he swallowed heavily , “I think i could manage that.”

“Good.” Varric said, handing him the ring. He pulled a matching one out of his other pocket and slipped it on his own hand. He noticed his hands were shaking ever so slightly. Garrett grasped them in both of his.

“Thank you,” he said softly, “For going to all this trouble.”

Varric looked at him incredulously, “It wasn’t any trouble. I think, given how slow I was on the uptake with all this,” he gestured between the two of them, “I have some ground to make up.”

Garrett leaned forward and kissed him gently, “You don’t have to make anything up to me Varric. That you are here now is really all I need."

 

The End


	2. Chapter 2

Initially Varric had been worried that their working relationship would change because of the change in the nature of their relationship. But they ran around Kirkwall all day, righting wrongs and returning miscellania, and then at night he would learn the shape and taste of Hawke's body. Nothing changed in the way Hawke treated him. And at first he was relieved. Hawke returned to the Hanged Man for Wicked Grace, joked with him, snarked at Isabela, exchanged vague pleasantries with Sebastian and gamly explained the ever more inventive tavern graffiti to Merill. They fought blood mages, and mad Elves and gangs of interchangeable street thugs, traipsed through giant spider infested caves, got sand in his boots on the wounded cost as they hunted Tal-Vashoth and Elf Root, and nothing changed.

Nothing.

And It was starting to get on Varric’s nerves.

In bed Hawke was...solicitous and attentive. He enthusiastically coached Varrick through sucking cock until Varrick felt himself a master of the craft. But when Varrick woke each morning Hawke was always gone, either down in the study or out for a run. And all of it lacked the passion of the first night. There was a guardedness to Hawke's behavior that hadn’t been there before. And Hawke had never again tried to ask him where this was going or what it was. And it was that, more than anything else that made him realize that Hawke was just waiting for Varrick to leave. And he knew that he was going to have to be the one to say something because this time Hawke wasn’t going to.

A few days latter he was on his way to Anders’s clinic to get him to look at the spider bite he’d picked up in one of the afore mention giant spider slaying romps, he was still trying to figure out how to broach the subject with Hawke, which he knew was really just nerves on his part, when he checked his stride at the door to the clinic at the sound of Anders’s voice.

“You can talk to me you know,” Anders said, his voice gentle. “I do have some familiarity with being in love with someone who doesn’t return the feeling.”

“And that’s why it wouldn’t be fair to you.” Hawke disagreed, “Talking to you about Varric would just be cruel.”

Varric edged himself into the shadows at the entrance to the clinic positioning himself so that he could see without being seen.  
Anders shook his head, “You need to talk to someone Hawke, this is eating you up inside.”

Hawke’s shoulders were bowed, his posture radiating defeat, so different from his normal bearing that Varric was taken aback.

“It still wouldn't be fair to you.”

“I’m a big boy Hawke,” Anders said, seating himself next to where Hawke sat on a crate, “I can take care of myself.” Hawke gave him a skeptical look, “What?” Anders rolled his eyes, “Ok, so I’ve made some poor life choices, this isn’t one of them.”

“Don’t do me any favors Anders,” Hawke said darkly, “I’ve had about all I can take of friends doing favors for me.”

Anders made a sympathetic noise, “You really think he’s just humoring you?”

Hawke lifted one shoulder in a shrug, “I don’t know.” He answered tiredly, “I...I think he cares, I know he considers me his best friend and he even said that I was the most important person in the world to him…” Hawke trailed off, his eyes unfocused.

“But,” Anders prompted

“I don’t think he loves me. He’s never even called me by my name,” Hawke whispered, “Even when we’re in bed together I’m still just Hawke.” There was so much raw pain in Hawke’s voice that Varrick took an automatic step toward him without even thinking. And then it hit him that he was the cause of the pain and he wanted to howl.

Anders pulled him into a hug and Varric felt a wave of jealousy hit him that nearly left him breathless.

“Have you tried talking to him?” He asked gently

Hawke laughed, but there was no mirth in it, “He just deflects, you know Varric.” Anders nodded “I know,” Hawke went on his voice breaking, “I know I should end it. Every night I try and then he touches me and...and I get to pretend for just a little while that…”Hawke trailed off a tear sliding down his face and catching in his beard, “And in the morning I can’t stand myself,” he shook his head, pulling away from Anders , “I’ve never thought of myself as a coward, but in this...so I retreat to my study and lose myself in research or go for a run,” he smiled mirthlessly, “I’m probably in the best shape of my life.”

“You are not a coward!” Anders replied, clearly indignant on Hawke’s behalf, “You are allowed to want the man you love to love you back.”

Hawke sighed and wiped a hand across his eyes, “Maybe. But if wishes were horses then beggars would ride as my father loved to say. I should get going,” Hawke said abruptly, clearly finished with the conversation. “Thanks for listening Anders.”

Anders watched him go a worried expression on his face, “Hawke,” he said, following after, “I really am happy to listen, if nothing else I am your friend.”

Hawke smiled at him, “Thanks Anders, I wish…” He trailed off and Varric felt a stab of panic laced jealousy knife through his chest.

It was Ander’s turn to smile, “Me to, obviously, but we can’t help whom we love.”

“Maker help me, isn’t that the truth.”

And then Hawke was gone, passing within a foot of Varric as he left, his face smoothing out into his normal pleasant countenance just as if he wasn’t being made utterly miserable by his ass of a lover. Varric felt nauseated.

Anders stared after Hawke’s retreating form and sighed and then turned and went into his back room where he kept his supplies. Varric knew he should leave, but he felt rooted to the spot, his head spinning. His heart ached knowing that he had caused Hawke… caused Garrett so much pain and hadn’t even realized it. What kind of a lover--or even a friend--did that make him that it had taken him this long to even realize something might be wrong and only to realize the depth of his failure by dent of an overheard conversation. He leaned his head against the crate and breathe heavily through his nose fighting down the sudden lump in his throat. He heard again the raw pain in Garrett’s voice.

 _I don’t think he loves me. He’s never even called me by my name, even when we’re in bed together I’m still just Hawke_  
But...he _did_ love him Varric realized. Oh Maker, Varric thought dazedly, I _do_ love him. The strength of which he was only now coming to appreciate. He swallowed, the only other time he had let himself fall in love it had ended so, so badly. He'd never wanted to fall for someone again. It just hurt too damn much. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think. He could ignore it, let Hawke think he was right, but even just thinking that made Varric recoil inwardly. He could end it- let things go back to the way they were, but...he didn't want to. What he'd said to hawke all those weeks ago about his life being the poorer for not having a chance to make things work between them was still as true now as it had been then. And he realized that really it was already too late, he was already in too deep. He would have to try he decided, he took long breath and squared his shoulders, he could do this, he just prayed that it was’t too late.

*

“You can do this” Hawke told himself as he approached the Hanged Man, “just tell him you want to be friends. He’ll probably be relieved,” Hawke swallowed down the misery, and squared his shoulders but still hesitated at the threshold to Varric’s door, that small treacherous voice in the back of his mind that had defeated him every night before said once again that one more night couldn’t hurt. One more night where he got to touch and hold and pretend that his feelings were returned. Varric would end it soon enough, why did he always have to be the self sacrificing one? He was still fighting with himself when his feet took him into Varric’s suite on autopilot.

“Hawke!” Varric said loudly, jerking him out of his internal conflict, “Your early!”

Hawke blinked, Varric had sounded nervous, “Are you ok?” He asked.

Varric ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that Hawke had only seen him make a handful of times and then it hit him that, oh Varric was breaking up with. Hawke sank tirely into a seat, and tried to remind himself that this was for the best.

“It's ok Varric,” Hawke said softly, “I understand.”

“No it's bloody well _not_ ok,” Varric said vehemently and then he was in front of Hawke, kissing him with a passion that made something in Hawke's gut tighten painfully. “I love you,” Varrick whispered fiercely against his lips, “I have fucked this up so, so badly but I do, I love you.” Hawke felt dumbstruck, and must have looked as uncertain as he felt, because Varric started to look a bit desperate. “ I love you," he repeated, "I’m not doing this out of obligation, or pity, or as a favor, I’m here and in your bed because I want you. Please, " Varric pleaded, "give me another chance Garrett.”

Hawke pulled Varrick to him and kissed him with all the passion he’d tried to keep banked there last few weeks, he stood up and forgetting himself picked up Varric and took a step toward the bed until his brain caught up with what he’d done and then sat back down like a string had been cut, releasing Varric as if burned. “I’m sorry,” he said urgently, “I didn’t mean--I forgot--” Hawke had been there the time one of the burly serving women had made the mistake of picking up Varric to give him a kiss. Hawke had never seen him so mad. It was that night that he had confided to Hawke one of the reasons he didn’t want to take humans as lovers was the height problem which humans seemed to believe could be solved simply by picking him up, which was not, under any circumstances, ok.  Varric looked stunned and Hawke felt his heart sink, “I won’t do it again, I swear” he pleaded, “I wasn’t--

Varric kissed him so tenderly it shut him up completely. “Garrett,” he said softly, sliding one hand along his face, “I do not care if you pick me up.”

“But” Hawke started, “You said--

“You’re different.” Varric explained gently, “I love you. I didn’t know…” He licked his lips nervously, “ I’m just sorry that it's taken me this long to get my head out of my ass. But to give you a too much delayed answer to your perfectly reasonable questions, what this is,” he gestured between the two of them, “Is a partnerships that I hope will last for…” he swallowed again, “well as long as we can manage, and given our propensity for stumbling blindly into some seriously fucked up shit, the Maker only knows how long that will be, but if I’m very, very lucky the rest of our lives. And as for what I want, I want you to believe me that I love you, I want you to be happy, and I want you to take me to bed and make love to me like the first night we were together when I hadn’t yet betrayed your trust--and if you want to carry me to the bed so I can kiss you on the way I’d want that too.”

Hawke looked floored. He reached out and slid a hand along Varric’s cheek and Varric sighed and leaned into the touch, putting his hand over Hawke’s. “How...what brought this…” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully, “you...you overheard me talking to Ander’s didn’t you.” He started to pull away but Varric held on.

“Yes, I did, but I’d already started to pick up that something was wrong, that just helped to clarify things.”

  
Hawke looked conflicted, “Is this...you can’t just... decide to be in love with someone Varric.”

“I didn’t decide Hawke-- Garrett” Varric corrected when Hawke flinched.

“You don’t have to--

“Andraste’s flaming knickers,” Varric growled and kissed him, “I love you Garrett Alexander Hawke, The Maker only knows why,” he knocked his head gently against Hawke’s. “But I can’t read your mind, if there’s something you want me to do you have to _tell_ me.”

Hawke nodded, “I know,” he sighed, “I suppose a part of me just wanted you to come up with it on your own. Names are such a big thing with you.”

“Well, in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m pretty bad at this, so that’s probably not going to happen. Can you live with that?”

Hawke’s mouth quirked up, “I can, yeah. I’m--or at least in the past, I wasn’t, so...irrational when it came to my lovers. Although you’d never know it to look at me now.” He shook his head, “You make me crazy.”

Varric grinned at him, “Likewise. And to be fair, you did try to talk about things at first. I just wasn’t there yet.”

“What changed?” Hawke asked leaning back in the chair. His mouth dropped open when Varric climbed up into his lap.

Varric grinned like a shark and took full advantage of Hawke’s gaping mouth, once he got his breath back he replied, “Nothing changed.” He chuckled, “nothing changed, you were treating me the exact same way as always and it was driving me crazy.”

Hawke blinked, “I didn’t think you’d want me to treat you any differently, not with, well, not with other people around surely?”

“I didn’t think so at first, and then you kept flirting with Rivaini and I wanted to stab her in the eye and write my name on your ass, so I guess yeah, I do want you to treat me differently.”

Hawke burst out laughing, “You were jealous?” he asked, delighted.

“Blondie’s lucky he didn’t lose a limb when he hugged you today.”

Hawke gave him a wondering look, “Really?”

Varric nodded, “really. It caught me by surprise too.”

“I...well I didn’t think you wanted anyone to know.”

“Why?” Varric asked, “I mean, yeah, I figured that out after the first couple of weeks, but it's not like I ever said anything. I’m not ashamed of you Garrett.” Hawke glanced away, color suffusing his cheeks, “Wow,” Varric said softly, “I really fucked this up didn’t I. You thought I was ashamed of you?”

Hawke shrugged, “I wasn’t sure this was the kind of thing you wanted getting out. I know that dwarves don’t generally approve of same-sex relationships. And, well, you’ve never been a fan of humans as romantic partners. And I didn’t know if...” He trailed off.

Varric waited and when Hawke didn't go on he prompted,“You didn’t know if,” 

Hawke blew out a breath, “I didn’t know if you’d told Bianca and I didn’t want anything to get back to her incase you hadn’t.”

Varric was silent for a long moment, “I don’t deserve you.” He muttered finally. “Please promise me something.” he begged softly. Hawke nodded, knowing he’d do it, even if he ought not, “Please stop hurting yourself because you think it’ll make me happy.” He ran his hands through Hawke’s hair and cupped his face, “Please?”

Hawke sighed and kissed him, “I’ll try. I...I’m not very good at this either you know. And I don’t...well, I don’t get to keep the things I love.”

Varric’s heart broke. “You get to keep me, I swear” he answered roughly. “Please take me to bed now.”  
Hawke nodded, and waited for Varric to get off his lap, when he didn’t but instead jutted his chin at challenging angle that Hawke knew all too well, Hawke slid his arms around him and lifted him as he stood. Varric kissed him, “I love you,” he promised, “I am not going to run away.”

They made it to the bed, Maker only knew how. Once Hawke had Varric on his back he started on his shirt, Varric was already pulling Hawke’s shirt of his head. “What do you want?” Varric asked, “what do you want that we haven’t tried?" Hawke froze which Varric knew for the tell it was, “Garrett,” He said warningly, “Do not lie to me. We just had that lovely heart to heart.”

Hawke huffed a laugh, “What we do is fine--” Varric narrowed his eyes at him, “It is,” Hawke said grinning, “I’m just happy to--

“I want you to remove the word ‘just’ from your vocabulary--" Varric growled as he tugged at Hawke's tunic

“Might make conversations difficult,”

“Shut up, no one asked you, what do you _want_ that we haven’t tried.' Varric asked again, thumping hawke on the chest, "Not ‘do you like what we’ve been doing,’”

  
Hawke swallowed, “You could…” He trailed off unable to finish. Unable to risk what he had.

“Garrett,” Varric whispered, “Ask me.”

Hawke closed his eyes, “You could fuck me?”

Varric considered this, “I haven’t got a clue how.” He conceded “but I’m willing to give it a go.”

“You really don’t have to.” Hawke assured him, trying to fight down the jolt of arousal that went through him so he could think straight, “what we’ve been--

“I believe I told you to shut up.” Varric said cheerfully, “show me how.”

“Oh Maker,” Hawke whispered his head dropping down on the pillow next to Varric’s in defeat, “...if you’re sure.”  
Hawke leaned over the bed where he’d dropped his belt and pulled off a small bottle, he tipped the contents onto his fingers and then rocked back so that he could get his fingers into himself. Varric watched in horrified fascination, “shit, doesn't that hurt?”

Hawke bit down on a groan, “Really no,” he assured him. He finally flopped over on the bed next to Varric to get a better angle, and added another finger. “Ok,” he said after another moment, “get on top of me,” he helped Varric climb on top of him, he glanced at the dwarf, “If you don’t like this please don’t do it, I won’t be offended I swear.” He helped get Varric lined up. 

There was resistance at first and then once the head of his cock was past the tight ring of muscle he move more easily. Even so the tight, wet heat was like nothing he’d ever experienced. His balls drew up and he had to grab himself and hold still for a moment to keep from cumming right then. Hawke threw back his head, a moan escaping him. “Oh fuck," he whispered, Varric’s hips jerked forward without any input from his brain and Hawke moaned again.

After a moment they found their rhythm, they’d always been good at anticipating each other in the field, apparently that extended to the bedroom as well. Varric caught himself chanting “Garrett, oh fuck, Garrett,” over and over again.

“I need to kiss you,” Varric said desperately, he couldn’t reach Hawke from where he was but Hawke surged forward bending nearly double and impaling himself even further on Varric’s dick as he lunged up to kiss him. He came with a shout, the taste of Hawke on his lips his hand on Hawke’s cock, it only took a couple pulls and Hawke was coming too. Afterwards they lay tangled together in the afterglow, sticky and sweaty and so, so sated. Varric had his face buried in the crook of Hawke’s neck and Hawke’s face was buried in Varric's hair.

Finally Varric turned his head enough to look at the candle burning on the table. “We need to get up, the other’s will be here any minute for Wicked Grace.”

  
Hawke made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a whimper, and Varric smiled into his neck and kissed a path up to his mouth, stroking a hand along Hawke’s chest. “If we don’t go down Rivaini will just come up, and I find that I’m sick of sharing.” Hawke’s eyes opened and he glanced at him questioningly. Varric hesitated for a moment, finally he said haltingly

“The only other person I’ve ever loved was Bianca... and I had to share her with that nug humper of a husband of hers. I’m,” he hesitated and then soldiered on, “I’m rather looking forward to having you all to myself. I mean I’m assuming the exclusivity rule from our first round of negotiations is still in effect.”

Hawke chuckled softly, “Very much so.”

“Well then if I don’t want Rivaini coming in here and ogling my man, we’re gonna have to make ourselves presentable.”

Hawke stretched languidly and sighed. “Fine,” he rumbled, “But I want to lodge a complaint, that wasn’t nearly enough time to enjoy the afterglow."

Varric grinned, “So noted. We’ll plan ahead next time. ” Varric slid off and stood. He glanced back at Hawke and stopped. Hawke opened his eyes and caught him staring, he felt a twinge of unease, “Varric?”

“You’re just very nice to look at.” Varric reassured him, leaning down to kiss him, “I was enjoying the view.”

Hawke actually blushed, “I should get cleaned up,” he muttered and got up and headed to the privy.

*

They both managed to get cleaned up and headed down the stairs before anyone came looking for them. Varric, now that he was looking for it, watched as Hawke pulled on the mask, could almost see him mentally putting distance between them.

“Garrett,” he said softly taking his hand, Hawke’s head jerked around to look at him, surprise plain on his face, “Not ashamed.”

Hawke swallowed, “ So you want...what? To tell everyone?”

Varric spotted Isabela coming across the floor to meet them, he moved a couple steps up so that he was on level with Hawke and then kissed him, he heard Isabela come to a stop and then a moment later jeer a cat call at them. Hawke broke away wide eyed. “I think they’ll figure it out.” Varric said cheerfully, trailing a stunned Hawke down the stairs and toward their table in his wake.

“Well it's about damn time.” Isabela remarked as they took a seat, “Hawke when you finally get it out of your system, just know that there’s more fish in the sea.”

“And that some of them are sharks,” Fenris commented taking his seat.

Isabela batted her eyelashes at him, “Why Fenris you say the sweetest things.”

  
Varric felt another wave of possessive jealousy and wondered if this was going to be a thing. He’d never been very jealous of Bianca. But then he hadn’t really had the luxury. “Garrett is taken Rivani.” Varrick replied, frowning.

“And he doesn’t even like women.” Hawke added. Varrick could tell that he was pleased at the use of his given name. He flashed Hawke a grin who smiled back.

“Details,” Isabela waved it away, “Meaningless details.” Varric and Hawke exchanged a glance.

“Riviani you are incorrigible, you know that?” Varric asked as he shuffled, Hawke got up to fetch the first round of drinks and Aveline and Sebastian came in.

“Ooo, breaking out the big words.” Isabela cooed, “Is somebody feeling threatened?”

“Who feels threatened? Sebastian asked as he took his usual seat.

“Varric’s worried I’m going to steal is man.”

“He’s really not” Varric corrected.

Avaline raise her eyebrows in surprise, “I didn’t know you had a man Varric.”

“Varric and Hawke have finally kissed and made up.” Isabela explained, “They were fawning all over each other earlier it was quite disgusting really. You should have been here you could have arrested them for public lewdness.” And so the evening went. Varric began to realize that the rest of the group hadn’t even been aware that they’d been seeing each other for the last three months. They seemed to think it had just started that night. And perhaps, Varric thought as he watched Hawke laugh and joke with Avaline and entirely fail to flirt with Isabela, they had.

After the rest of the crowd had headed to their beds, or in Isabela’s case someone else’s bed, Varric glanced a Hawke and asked, “Your place or mine?”

“Well,” Hawke said, only slurring his words slightly, “you’re place is closer. But mine comes with hot running water.”

Varric considered this, “Only if you’ll be there when I wake up.” That might, he realized upon reflection, have come out a bit more sullen than he’d intended.

“Sorry. ” Hawke ducked his head, “You never said anything. I didn’t think--

Varric leaned over and kissed him, “I mind.”

Hawke looked pleased, “I’ll be there when you wake up.” He promised.

“Then if we can manage the walk, I vote for your place. Your bed is better anyway.”

“I keep forgetting to put it on the floor.” Hawke groused as they headed toward High Town.

Varric rolled his eyes, “The step stool is fine Garrett. I’ve been a dwarf living among humans all my life. Incorrectly sized furniture is not new.”

Hawke looked like he wanted to object and then subsided. They walked along in companionable silence, pretending not to see the Dog Lord thugs who were shadowing them.

“I think they’re getting worse.” Hawke said conversationally as they rounded the corner, reaching up and bringing his staff down in one sharp motion that sent electricity crackling across the plaza which echoed thereafter with the sounds of multiple screams.

“Could be.” Varric agreed as a put an arrow through the Dog Lord that had been trying, badly, to flank them.  
They both waited, ready to see if there would be any more thugs, but when the streets stayed clear, they continued on their way.

“You’re sure I can’t put anything in the manner that would make it more comfortable for you?” Hawke asked as they took the last set of stairs up toward home.

“Nah, Bodahn’s already made the place about as dwarf friendly as possible.”

  
Hawke nodded. Bodahn and Sandal had already retired for the night, so they locked up after themselves and headed up to the master bedroom where Hawke started stripping down. Varric watched him. He’d been aware that Garrett was an attractive man, you didn’t need to spend much time following Hawke before you noticed a tendency of the women (and men) that he met to throw themselves at him. But it was as if he was seeing things that he hadn’t seen before.

“Varric?” Hawke asked, and Varrick realized he’d been staring. His eyes flicked up to Garrett’s face, he was grinning.

“Sorry.”

Hawke’s grin got wider, “You’re allowed to look.” He reassured him, “You just look…I don’t think I’ve ever seen a look quite like that, if I had to give it a name i’d call it puzzled lust.”

“Fairly accurate.” A thought occurred to Varric, “Hawke--sorry, Garrett--

“Varric, I don’t mind if you call me Hawke--” Varric gave him a look, and Hawke had the grace to look embarrassed, “It was less the name and more the sentiment,” he explained, “and you’ve been calling me Hawke for two years now, I understand that it might be hard to call me something else.”

Varric nodded thoughtfully,“But you would prefer that I call you Garrett.”

  
Hawke hesitated and Varic glared at him, he sighed. “Yes.”

“Then I will.” Varric said firmly as he shrugged out of the last of his clothes and climbed into bed, pulling Hawke down with him.

“What were you going to ask me?” Hawke prompted, arching into Varric’s touch as he stroked down Hawke’s nicely muscled chest.

“Have you had any lovers since you came to Kirkwall?”

  
Hawke blinked, “Where did that come from?”

“I was just thinking about women’s tendencies to throw themselves at you and I realized I can’t remember you ever taking a lover.”

“I don’t like women Varric,” Hawke explained patiently.

“Don’t give me that, there were plenty of men throwing themselves at you too.”

  
Hawke shrugged uncomfortably, “taking lovers is difficult for a mage and I’ve never enjoyed one night stands. Too much of a romantic Caver always liked to say.”

“Junior is an ass.” Varric said automatically.

“He is,” Hawke agreed, “But not wrong. Why?”

“It was just a thought, and then I was suddenly worried that you’d been celibate for two years because of me.” Varric caught the looked on Hawke's face, “ Damn it Hawke!”

“Not just you!” Hawke said hurriedly. “It really is hard for me to trust people.”  
Varric pulled him down into a kiss, “You’re incorrigible too, you and Rivaini should start a club.” Varric muttered against his lips.

“Mmm,” Hawke said as Varric’s hand moved lower and started to stroke. “So,” Hawke sighed arching up into the touch again, “What do _you_ want?”

Varric’s hand stilled for a moment and then continued the lazy stroking, “Getting to fuck you was pretty spectacular.” Varric conceded after a moment.

Hawke laughed, it was a warm, full belly laugh that made Varric smile. “Anything else?”

“This is going to shock you Garrett but I don’t actually have a lot of experience with sex,”

“What, a paragon of manliness like yourself?” Hawke asked, grinning.

“Sad but true. Bianca and I were together but not for years. The time that we had together before everything went to the Void was fairly brief all things considered and as much as I hate to admit it, dwarfs are fairly old fashioned in our sexual exploits.”

“No,” Hawke gasped in mock astonishment, “Dwarves? Old fashioned?”

Varric punched him in the arm, “Bianca and I considered ourselves pretty adventurous at the time.” He added after a moment. “But co-writing Swords and Shields with Isabela has taught me the error of my ways.”

“I still cannot believe you two actually wrote that drivel.”

“You read it.” Varric pointed out.

“Of course I did, the dwarf that I’m in love with wrote porn, like I wasn’t going to read it. Although the mental gymnastics of trying to see someone other than Avaline and Donnic got to be too much for me in the end.”

“Yeah,” Varric agreed, feeling absurdly pleased at Hawke’s comment about loving him, “that might have been a tactical error on our part.”

“Little bit.”

“Worth it though. So, to return to your earlier question, I don’t really have any deep, burning fantasies, but like always Sirrah Hawke I am willing to follow where you lead.”

Hawke shifted over him, lining up their cocks and dumping oil from a bottle he’d fished out of the side drawer. Varric’s eyes slid shut as Hawke began to stroke. “Yeah,” Hawke rumbled, his strong strokes stopping just this side of painful just the way Varric liked them. They had done this before, and each time it got a little bit better. Varric assumed it would plateau eventually but clearly not tonight. “I’ve been meaning to talk to all of you about that. I think it's someone else’s turn to lead.”

Varric’s voice hitched slightly, “Good luck with that.”

“It's not that bad,” Hawke wheedled, “Sometimes you get to save the city from barking mad Elves and degranged chantry sisters.

“Pass.”

“Maker,” Hawke hissed as he picked up speed, “you feel good.”

  
Varric’s hand found Hawke’s other hand in the darkness and squeezed. Hawke’s eyes slid shut and he groaned softly. Varric had picked up pretty early that Hawke had a thing for his hands. He ran the other one over all the bared skin he could reach.

“Love you.” he said softly. Hawke’s breath hitched and he came. Varic took over, another few pulls and he was coming as well. Slowly Hawke slumped down next to him and Varric pulled him close. “Thank you,” whispered, “For giving me another chance.”

“Thank you for wanting one.” Hawke whispered back.

*

The next morning Hawke awoke, felt the warmth of the body next to him and cursed himself for a coward until a split second later the rest of the night slammed back. He lay reeling for a moment as the events unrolled behind his mind’s eye. His stomach tightened painfully as he remember Varric saying he loved him not once but repeatedly, and he breathed out trying to get his equilibrium back.

Hawke believed him. But he didn’t know if that was because it was true, or just because Hawke so wanted it to be true. But last night had been...something had changed. And it had been so good. And fool that he was he was willing to hope, because it was so much better than the alternative.

Finally, he rolled over to look at the dwarf in question. Varric was still deeply asleep, he was not, Hawke had learned early on, a morning person. Hawke smiled fondly, watching him, his eyes tracing the familiar lines of his face relaxed now in sleep. Hawke had always found Varric attractive, even before he’d fallen head over heels. Getting to see what was under all that leather had only improved his opinion. And of course there was the added bonus of getting to run his fingers through all that glorious chest hair.

After a while he decided he was going to have to get up, not, for once, because he wanted to escape his poor decisions, but because he really needed to take a piss. Hopefully Varric would sleep until he got back. But as he was rolling quietly out of bed he heard a muttered, “where do you think your going?”

Hawke grinned, rolled back over and kissed the dwarf on the temple, “To take a piss. I’ll be right back.” he promised.

Varric cracked one eye suspiciously but seemed mollified when Hawke just headed toward the bathroom door.

When he got back Varric was waiting, “How can you be coherent this early?” he grumbled, his voice rusty with sleep, as he pulled Hawke back down with him.

Hawke laughed, “I’ve always been a morning person.” He rolled back over grabbed one of Varric arms and tugged until Varric was spooned up behind him.

“You know,” Varric said around a yawn, “Not that i’m complaining mind you, but I never thought I’d be the big spoon in this relationship.”

“Mmm,”Hawke sighed contentedly, “well I’m glad you're not complaining.”

“So you really do prefer being on the bottom?” Varric asked, it was a conversation they’d never really had. Hawke could hear the surprise edging his words.

He rolled back over so he could face Varric, “I do,” he said seriously, “Is that a problem?”

“No,” Varric reassured him, “It just seems, I mean you're usually the one calling the shots. Seems uncharacteristic is all.”

Hawke raised an eyebrow at him, “You assume because I like to be on bottom I'm not the one calling the shots?”

Varric looked suddenly cautious, “there’s a trap here, I can already tell.”

Hawke laughed again, and then pushed himself up onto his knees and moved so that he was over Varric, he sat back slightly grabbing up the jar of oil that they'd used last night and dumped a good amount on his hand and on Varric who yelped at the sudden splash of cold. Hawke grinned evilly and began stroking Varric’s cock which was waking and stretching eagerly at the attention.

“I did mention that I wasn’t complaining, right?” Varric asked dazedly as Hawke’s strokes picked up speed.

“You did.” Hawke agreed, “But just because I like to take it, and Varric,” he locked eyes with Varric as he leaned back and slid two finger into himself, “I do like to take it."  Varric whimpered " that certainly doesn’t mean I’m not calling the shots.”

“Maker’s breath Hawke.”

“Mmm,” Hawke hummed in agreement, his voice slightly breathless as he added another finger, his other hand still stroking Varric' length. Varric’s hands had found their way to his thighs and were rubbing up and down just shy of his cock and Hawke arched into the touch hungrily. Finally he judged himself ready and he moved over Varric, waited until Varric’s eyes were locked on his again and then slowly lowered himself onto Varric’s cock.

Varric swore loudly, his hips trying to buck but Hawke held them in the place with an iron grip. Once Hawke was fully seated, Varic gasping under him like a dragon about to flame, he gave himself a moment to adjust and then started to move. Rock solid thighs pistoning him up and down relentlessly as he fucked himself on the thick length of Varric’s cock.

  
“Oh Maker,” Varric chanted over and over as Hawke rode him expertly, his hands digging into Hawks waist hard enough to leave bruises. Hawke ran his hands up the length of Varric’s chest, fingers scratching through his chest hair which had turned out to be surprisingly soft. Hawke closed his eyes reveling in the feel of being filled, of being stretched, of being taken and doing the taking. His smiled took on a predatory edge when he opened his eyes and caught Varric staring up at him hungrily. Hawke leaned down kissed him. The angle was a bit awkward but not overly so, and so worth the effort to have the taste of Varric lips on his when Hawke came. He clinched tightly around Varric’s cock, who came with a shout. Hawke rode out the aftershocks, waiting until Varric had softened a bit before raising himself up and off, and then letting himself collapse happily next to Varric, his face mashed into the pillow his ass slightly up in the air.

He was about to make a comment when to his surprise Varric slid a hand along his back and over his ass dipping one finger inside him. He felt the muscles in his ass spasm and he groaned loudly his dick twitching in a valiant if ultimately futile effort to get hard again. “Oh Maker,” he hissed his hips pushing back against Varric’ finger which had been joined by a second. “Oh shit, Varric!”

“I’m glad you like taking it Garrett,” Varric whispered in his ear, “Because I rather like doing the taking.” Hawke whimpered, screwing his eyes shut as Varric kept stroking his ass with one hand and fucking him with his fingers with the other. “And while you are clearly perfectly capable of calling the shots,” Varric’s beautiful baritone went on in Hawke’s ear, “I think here,” he punctuated the word by dragging his fingers across Hawke’s prostate making him gasp, “You don’t always want to, do you?”

For a moment Hawke couldn't find his voice as sensation swamped him, but when Varric started to pull his hands away Hawke gasped out, “No.”

Hawke realized dazely that he was hard again, so too, apparently was Varric because he was suddenly behind Hawke sliding in, his way eased by his own cum and Hawke groaned into the pillow at the thought.

“Louder Garrett,” Varric admonished, “We’ve had this talk.”

“My mother is in the next room.” Hawke hissed as Varric pounded into him, “Oh maker _yes_.”

“Your mother is a smart lady, Garrett, she already knows what we’re doing in here. Stop making excuses.” he slapped Hawke on the ass, Hawke gasped and came so hard that it almost hurt.

He returned to himself a moment later with cum dripping out of his ass, Varic pressed up against his side and blood still rushing in his ears. He rolled over and eyed Varric who was looking smug.

“You've been holding out on me,” Varric said accusingly.

Hawke laughed and stretched, wincing a little, “well, yes.” He said, “I kept waiting for you to leave.”

“No, not that, I asked you if there was anything else you wanted to try.”

Hawke looked at him blankly and then understanding dawned, “Oh”, he dropped his face, which felt suspiciously warm, down into the pillow. “Please don’t put that in a story, I’ll never heard the end of it from Isabela.”

“Garrett,” Varric said sharp enough to make Hawke pick his head up and look at him, “none of this is going in a book.” Hawke sighed in relief and Varric pulled him close spooning up behind him, he hooked his chin over Hawks shoulder. “You like what you like, nothing wrong with that. You could have told me.”

“I’ve never actually told anybody.” Hawke muttered after a moment, “I had a few lovers figure it out.”

“Well, like I said I’m not very good at this so you’re going to need to give me the particulars.”

“I love your hands.” Hawke said after a moment spent trying to marshal his thoughts, “What you did just then, kind of the perfect storm.”

Varric huffed an exasperated sigh, “Garrett, do you or do you not want me to spank you?” He asked bluntly and Hawke felt himself flinch at the word he’d never said out loud--that he’d never really even let himself think. He buried his face, which was on fire, in his hands, and yet at the same time arousal shot through him at the thought. “Hey, it's ok,” Varric soothed,

“Garrett,” he urged softly, tightening his arms around him, “It really is.”

“Can we not talk about this now?” Hawke begged.

Varric kissed the back of his neck. “Sure.”

Hawke relaxed and then gave a relieved chuckle when Varric stomach growled loudly enough to be heard in the other room. “Breakfast?” Hawke asked, grinning.

“I think that might be a good idea. “ Varric agreed, “But, we should probably get cleaned up first.”

*

Once they had availed themselves of Hawke’s hot water supply, one of the best selling points of the manor as far as Varric was concerned, they headed down to breakfast and found Bodhan already setting the table. As they took their seats Leandra came in, a flicker of surprise crossing her face at the sight of Varric--this was the first time he’d stayed for breakfast. Normally, after he'd woken yet again to an empty bed he’d let himself out and headed back to the Hanged Man.

“Master Tethras,” Leandra greeted him her tone slightly chilly.

“Varric please, Lady Leandra.” Varric reply with his most charming smile.

Unfortunately it didn’t seem to have the desired effect. Leandra’s frosty demeanor didn’t alter, if anything it dropped a few more degrees as she inclined her head in acknowledgement and took a seat at the table. After a few moments of eating in a suddenly awkward silence Leandra said, “I take it by your presence that you have finally decided to do right by my son?”

  
Hawke choked on the bite of food he’d just taken. “Mother!” He managed to gasp out between hacking coughs.

“No Garrett,” Varric interrupted, as he poured Hawke a glass of water.  Hawke gave him a grateful look as he gulped it down.“It's a fair question.” He met Leandra’s eyes squarely, “I never meant to hurt Garrett, Lady Leandra. ”

  
Leandra regarded him for a moment while Hawke fidgeted, looking poised to flee, after a moment she nodded, “I’m pleased to hear you say so.” She gave Hawke a small smile, “I suppose this means that I needn't find you a wife after all.” Hawke rolled his eyes, “it wouldn’t have been my first choice,” She went on, “I suppose I’ll have to rely on Carver for grandchildren,” she said wistfully, “although I suppose you can always adopt. So do you plan to have a ceremony or just draw up the documents?”

“Mother,” Hawke sighed, “I am in no way fit to raise a--wait, what?”  
Varric nodded in agreement, “Just the documents I think. I can draw them up today and have them approved by my solicitor by the end of the week.”

“I’ll want to see them first.” Leandra insisted.

“Of course,” Varric agreed, inclining his head.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Hawke asked in bewildered outrage.

Leandra raised an eyebrow at him, “Are you saying you don’t want to marry him?”

“I--no,” Hawke stammered, “But I’m pretty sure that he’s supposed to ask me--”

“Nonsense darling,”Leandra disagreed, “families have been arranging marriages for their children for centuries.”

Varric took pity on Hawke who was looking more and more besieged, “Garrett, would you like to get married?”

“Yes?” Hawke said, and then shook his head as if trying to clear it, “Do _you_?”

“Of course I do, I wouldn’t have agreed to draw up the papers otherwise.”

Hawke looked nonplussed at that. Finally he said, giving Varric a searching look, “If...if you’re sure. ”

“Excellent.” Lendra said, her voice rich with approval. I’ll expect the marriage documents on the morrow. “Now I should be going, I promised Gamlin I’d be by around midday.”

Hawke watched his mother go. “What just happened?” he asked finally.

Varric laughed, “I believe Sirrah Hawke, that we just got betrothed.”

“That’s what I thought.” He said weakly. He glanced at Varric uncertainty, “are you sure--

Varric leaned over and kissed him, nipping at Hawke’s lip until his mouth opened and he was able to deepen the kiss. He slid his hands into Hawke's hair as Hawke’s arms came around him. When he felt like he’d made his point, he pulled back and then kissed him more gently. He met Hawke’s searching gaze, “Do you love me?”

“More than is probably wise.” Hawke said quietly.

“Good.” Varric said, breathing through the sudden rush of warmth and possessiveness that came with Hawke’s assertion.

“Because I love you too. Do you want to sleep with anyone else?”

“No!”

“Good.” Varric replied, not bothering to keep how pleased he felt by the answer out of his voice, “Neither do I. Beyond that it's just money, and I already manage your finances and you’re already my next of kin.”

“What about--wait, I’m your next of kin? Since when?”

Varric rolled his eyes, “Last winter? When you signed the documents acknowledging you were my next of kin? I explained all of this to you already you know.”

Hawke’s eyes narrowed in thought. Finally he ask, his tone accusatory, “Was I drunk at the time?”

“Possibly.” Varric hedged, “Now is there anything specific you’d like in the marriage contract?”

Hawke ignored him, “You got me drunk and made me your next of kin?”

Varric sighed, “You would have said no otherwise.”

“Of course I would have!” Hawke said indignantly, “Don’t I inherit your seat in the dwarven merchant’s guild then? I don’t need another reason for people to want to kill me.”

“The merchant's guild isn't that bad.”

Hawke gave him a speaking look, “Varric, the only thing you complain about more than the Dwarven Merchant’s guild is hiking up Sunder Mount. You invented a cousin so that you wouldn’t have to attend meetings. Wait, shouldn’t the cousin inherent then?”

“Ah, that took some doing, but no. He’s an officiant, but not in line to inherent. Makes people less prone to want to kill him.”

“Hah,” Hawke said, pointing a finger at him accusingly, Varric winced.

“Ok,” he held up his hands placatingly, “so it just means that you’ll have a vested interest in keeping me alive.”

“Varric,” Hawke said, his tone long suffering, “I’m in love with you I already have a vested interest in keeping you alive.”

“Well there you go then. Problem solved. So anything particular for the marriage contract?”

Hawke threw up his hands in defeat. “Fine. I don’t want the seat, I’m human, they’ll have me assassinated on principle. Also, monogamy.”

Varric’s mouth quirked up in a smile, “Anything else?”

Hawke opened his mouth, closed it and actually seemed to think about it for a moment and then shrugged, “Not that I can think of, I’m sure mother will have some additions.” He added sourly. “You two are going to get to fight that one out on your own by the way, I’m going to be unavailable.”

Varric laughed, “I had no doubts.”

“For the record, I had no idea that she was going to do that.”

Varric shrugged, “It’s alright, I’ve never managed to get along with my lover’s families.”

“Bianca?” Hawke asked after a moment.

He nodded, “Her family has sent no less than five different assassins after me.”

Hawke gaped at him, “why?” He managed after a moment.

“I’m not supposed to come within three hundred leagues of Bianca. We nearly started a guild war before she finally agreed to leave me and marry that Nug humper of a husband.” Varric said tiredly

Hawke stared at him in horrified silence finally he said, “I’m so sorry.”

“I was too, less so now.” He added smiling at Hawke who smiled back.

Once they finished breakfast Varric headed back down to the Hanged Man to get changed, he really ought to start keeping a change of clothes at Garrett's place, and headed to a meeting with his publisher that he’d been putting off for weeks now. It was hard to stay focused, however, his mind kept drifting back to the events of the last few hours and he’d find himself grinning stupidly. By the time he’d finished with his publisher he realized he’d agreed to an earlier deadline and and an additional hundred pages and to his dismay, he found that he couldn’t even really work up a good head of steam over it, he was too focused on getting back to Garrett. He stopped by the Hanged Man, packed a bag with several changes of clothing and then headed back up to estate. Bodhan let him in and instructed him that Garrett was in the study. He snuck in quietly and just stood watching him for a while. Garrett was lit by the light of the fire in the hearth, his whiskey colored eyes glinting in the light as he turned a page. Varric felt his gut clench at the prospect of getting to have this all to himself. Forever. Or until he managed to screw it up.

Finally Garrett felt the eyes on him and pulled himself from his reading. “How long have you been there?” He asked his mouth quirking up in a smile.

“I just got here.” Varric lied easily and grinned as Garrett's smile grew.

“Liar.”

“Possibly. So, can I tear you away from your work?”

“Possibly,” Garrett replied, eyes sparkling, “What did you have in mind?”

“well I'd explain but you have issues about your household knowing about our sex life, so I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”  
Hawke laughed, “I think i can manage that.” he shut the book in his lap and stood, heading for his bedroom.  
Once the bedroom door was firmly shut behind him Varric asked, “So do you want me to spank you?”

“Varric!” Hawke hissed, spinning around. Varric could see arousal and embarrassment warring for space on his face.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Varric soothed, he’d given this a lot of thought and he’d decided that for now this would probably be the best approach. They would need to talk about it eventually but right now he wanted to show Garrett that he was willing and that it was nothing to be ashamed of, “Just give me a yes or no.”

  
Hawke looked torn, he swallowed hard, “You don’t have to do this.” he rasped after an agonized moment.

“I know that.” Varric assured him, “I want to. Do you want to?”

Hawke closed his eyes, “Yes.” He said so quietly that Varric almost missed it.

“Good.” Varric said approvingly, he started stripping out his clothes. After a moment Hawke began to do likewise. Varric really wished he could talk to him about this because he was more or less making this up as he went along and he didn’t want to get it wrong-- thank the Maker for Rivani and her unending desire to share sordid details of her own life. Despite his desire to talk things out, however, It was painfully obvious that if Varric asked Garrett to talk about this, neither the conversation nor in all probability the sex itself was going to happen.

Varric clambered up onto the bed and then looked toward where Garrett was hovering uncertainly by the door. “Come on Handsome,” Varric indicated the bed and that Hawke ought to join him with a jerk of his head, once Garrett had finally gotten onto the bed as well, Varric asked, “Do you want to lie on the bed or do you want me to put you over my knee.”

Garrett’s face flushed deeply he groaned and dropped his face into his hands. Varric was up and across the bed cupping his face in his hands, before he could call the whole thing off. He kissed him softly, “there is nothing to be ashamed of Garrett,”

“I shouldn't want this.” Hawke mumbled, his voice pained, “ and you thought wanting to be on bottom was uncharacteristic.”  
Varric kissed him again and mentally cursed himself for having said such a thing, “Garrett, there is nothing wrong with this. Nothing. Even so, unless you want it to this does not leave this room, this is between you and me and the rest of the world can go hang. I want to make you feel good, I don’t think any less of you for wanting--”

“Please don’t say it.” Hawke begged, glancing up “Yes, i want, yes--” he dropped his eyes back down and swallowed, “Your knee.”

Varric nodded, He’d guessed as much from Garrett’s reaction. Despite his obvious mortification Garrett was already hard, a bead of precum glistening at the tip of his cock. Varric helped him get settled with his face hidden in his crossed arms, his ass pushed up and his leaking cock pressing against Varric thigh. “How many?” Varric asked

“Ten.” Came the muffled reply after a moment.

  
Varric nodded and brought his hand down sharply on Garrett’s raised ass. Garrett swore into his arms his whole body jerking.

“Harder, softer or was that good?” Varric asked.

Garret just nodded, so Varric assume that that meant he was good. He brought his hand down again and Garrett actually cried out and then froze, “Maker,” he hissed “my Mother is going to hear us.”

“She's still at Gamelin’s I checked when I got here. And I sent Bodahan and Sandal on an errand.”

Hawke glanced back over his shoulder his embarrassment momentarily forgotten, “Did you really?”

Varric smiled warmly at him, rubbing his hand gently over the reddening hand prints on Garrett’s ass. “I did, but in the future I think we’re going to need to come up with something a bit more permanent.”

Hawke marveled at him for a moment more and then turned back and put his head back into the nest of his folded arms. “I’ll think of something.” He agreed.

Varric was pleased the Garrett seemed to be relaxing a little. He decided to to chance asking, “So what number was that?”

“Two.” Garrett said after a moment

“And you wanted?”

Varric felt him shiver, “Ten.”

Varric brought his hand down again and Garrett moaned loudly, not bothering to try and muffle himself beyond the automatic sound dampening effects having his face pressed into his arms offered. Varric made sure to wait a little between each strike stroking the reddening skin. He could tell that Garrett was close, his dick jerked with each strike and on the tenth Garrett came with a shout and a full body shudder. He lay panting wetly, and Varric revised his estimate of just how much Garrett wanted this to something more along the lines of need. He’d been with Garrett for months now and he’d never seen him quite like this. Varric tried to shift unobtrusively, his own hard on starting to complain, while he rubbed gentle circles on the small of garrett’s back. After a moment Garrett sighed, “Ooooh Maker. Thank you.”

“Now Garrett, we’re engaged to be married I think you can call me Varric.” Varric could feel Garrett roll his eyes. Garrett shifted slightly his leg bumping up against Varric’s aching cock, he pulled himself slowly off of Varric lap and then turned and pulled Varric down with him, his hand sliding down Varric’s chest and along the underside of his cock. Varric’s breath hitched, “Where’s that oil?” Garrett laughed and indicated the drawer in the stand by the bed, “Is there a special trick to this?” Varric asked as he poured some oil over his fingers.

“Not really,” Hawke answered, spreading his legs invitingly, “Just use a lot.”

“It's not going to hurt after,” Varric gestured toward Garrett’s ass.

“What?” He said drowsily, Varric wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Garrett so relaxed, “Oh, no. No I,” he cleared his throat, a bit of the embarrassment returning, “i like getting fucked after.”

“So,” Varric asked as he slid two fingers into Garrett “how often do you like to get spanked.”

Garrett arched into his touch but glared at him at the use of the word, although it lacked heat. Varric ignored it, he hoped that he’d be able, bit by bit to get Garrett more comfortable with himself in this. Using the word was a step in that direction.

“There’s nothing wrong with the word or the deed Garrett.” Hawoke opened his mouth very clearly to object but Varric cut him off, “How often?”

Garrett sighed in defeat bending one knee to give Varric easier access as he added a third finger. “This doesn’t always need to be about what I want you know.”

Varric rolled his eyes, “Yes, thank you Garrett I am aware of that, but you’re not the only one who enjoyed it.” And surprisingly that was the truth, Varric had enjoyed it. Less the act itself--although it hadn’t been nearly as uncomfortable as he’d feared it might be-- than the way it seemed to utterly destroy Garrett. Leaving him looking relaxed and sated in a way that Varric had never seen before. It was like someone unwound all that pent up power that crackled under his skin that he normally kept so tightly leashed. Varric found himself already looking forward to the next time. “You’re avoiding the question.”  
Garrett was watching his face and Varric lined them up and slid in, Garrett was so relaxed that there was nearly no resistance and Varric was able to start thrusting enthusiastically almost immediately. His eyes slid closed without his noticing and he swore loudly. He was still getting use to this, it was so different from what they done previously, the warm, tight, wet heat of him, the primal feeling of control as Garrett just lay back and let Varric pound into him. He heard Garrett’s breath hitch as he picked up his pace, nearing the edge of his control. Garrett was starting to push back against him, some of the languidness dissipating. When he opened his eyes again Garrett was still watching him.

“I dislike being humored.” he warned finally, when Varric opened his mouth to argue Garrett interrupted, “Yes i’m starting to get the idea that you’re not.”

“Damn right,” Varric growled and then he was spilling into Garrett’s ass, his own cum adding to the slick slide. Finally he pulled out dropping down next to him panting hard. “How. Often.”

Garrett blew out a long breath, “weakly, in a perfect world. Since we’re both pretty busy I doubt--”

Varric silenced him with a kiss, he’d felt a small shivery thrill run through him at the idea of getting to do this on a such a regular basis. “We'll see what we can manage.” he said once they’d broken apart.

  
Garrett eyed him for a moment, “You’re excited about this.” he said finally, his tone a mixture of surprise, skepticism, and wonder.

“Yep.” Varric agreed and Garrett barked a laugh. “I’m still going to ask you before hand. We’re supposed to talk about this,” Garrett gave him a look, “We are,” Varric defended, “Rivani explained it to me once” at Garrett’s panicked look Varric explained hurriedly, “nothing to do with us, this was months back. She was explaining about one of her former crewmen it's called kink negotiation. We put it in Swords and Shields remember? And I don’t want any more miscommunications if we can help it. Which we probably can’t because we both seem to be pretty bad at this, but we should at least try.”

Garrett threw his arm over his eyes and groaned, “Fine, fine. Just don’t expect me to very chatty.”

After a moment Varric asked quietly, “So do you think less of me because I enjoy this?”

“What,” Garrett said sharply, half sitting up his arm falling away from his face. “no of course not--” he stopped and rolled his eyes in the face of Varric smug expression, “It's different. You’re not a grown man who wants to be put over someone’s knee and spanked,” his voice cracked on the last word. “It's ridiculous,” he flopped back down on the bed and covered his flaming face with both hands. “And if anyone ever found out I think I’d have to turn myself into the templars--

“Stop.” Varric order sharply, the very idea of Garrett at the hands of the templars left him cold. “No one is going to find out. Do you still think I would--

“Not you,” Garrett shook his head, “Not,” he sighed, “I don't know, people talk and I make a lot of noise. And the,” he gestured, “the act itself is hardly quiet.”

“well,” Varric said, slightly mollified, “Isn’t there a spell you can use?”

Garrett thought about it, “Not that i know of.” He said after a while, “I suppose I could write one.”

“There you go, problem solved.” Varric’s hand found Garrett’s, “Now come on we should get dressed, Bodahn will be back from his errand by now.”

Varric was right, when they got to the bottom of the stairs, the parlour was lit by the glow of candlelight and the warmth of the fire. A table had been set for two, covered dishes at each place setting revealed a meal that had obvious caused someone a great deal of effort. Garrett blinked in the low light turning a questioning look on Varric who smiled in return. Varric gestured for Garrett to take a seat and tried to calm his racing heart. Being nervous was absolutely ridiculous he told himself firmly. Garrett had already said yes for Andraste’s sake. “So,” Varric said, coughing to clear his throat, “I thought we might try something a bit less business like.” He pulled a ring out of his pocket. “Would you do me the honor of spending the rest of your life with me?”

Garrett’s smile almost hurt to see, he swallowed heavily , “I think i could manage that.”

“Good.” Varric said, handing him the ring. He pulled a matching one out of his other pocket and slipped it on his own hand. He noticed his hands were shaking ever so slightly. Garrett grasped them in both of his.

“Thank you,” he said softly, “For going to all this trouble.”

Varric looked at him incredulously, “It wasn’t any trouble. I think, given how slow I was on the uptake with all this,” he gestured between the two of them, “I have some ground to make up.”

Garrett leaned forward and kissed him gently, “You don’t have to make anything up to me Varric. That you are here now is really all I need."

 

The End


End file.
